


Our Fate in Tea Leaves

by Miss_Bennet



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Body Swap, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fake Dating, Fluff, I'm sorry I'm an impatient bitch, M/M, Mentions of Suicidal Thoughts, Mutual Pining, Painful pining, Slow Burn, Witch!Lance, a drunken game of charades, anxiety and depression, bed sharing, camping trip, get ready for all your favorite tropes all jammed together, ghosts and spooky stuff, ish?, it's the slowest I will ever write, lowkey Hunk/Shay, lowkey shallura, oblivious idiots, shifting pov, they/them pronouns for Pidge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-22
Updated: 2018-05-13
Packaged: 2019-04-06 13:07:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 65,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14057613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Bennet/pseuds/Miss_Bennet
Summary: Lance is a witch, Keith thinks he's a fraud, and his skepticism drives Lance up the wall. A ridiculous incident which leads them to swap bodies would certainly convince Keith that magic is real, right? If it was that simple, this fic wouldn't be 13 chapters long. They must bond and learn to overcome their differences in order to switch back, and we all know where that's going to end. Hop on for a fun, magical adventure filled with ghosts, fluff and mutual pining.





	1. Magic isn’t Real and Witches are Stupid

**Author's Note:**

> The rating is for adult language (they say the fuck word a lot)  
> tw for depression and anxiety. also mentions of bullying and homophobia. not so much in this chapter, but later on.
> 
> quick disclaimer: this fic was written before we received the blessing of Gay Shiro and the wonderful character of Adam, so I understand that the Shiro/Allura aspect is now very irrelevant, but I hope you can overlook this part and still enjoy the story. (I've never even shipped them really, they're just kind of convenient as a background relationship)

“He’s a what?” Keith raised his eyebrows, finally looking up from his phone in confusion.  
“He’s a witch,” Pidge replied, the mischievous spark in their eyes unbothered by Keith’s lack of enthusiasm.  
“A witch,” Keith repeated, his tone flat, “as in… He does magic? Like Harry Potter?”  
“No, not like Harry Potter,” Pidge rolled their eyes and pulled their chair closer so they could lower their voice. “He does all sorts of stuff, like talking to ghosts and lifting curses. Seeing the future, too. That kind of magic.”  
“So, kind of like Harry Potter. Does he have a wand?”  
“Stop it,” Pidge hit him lightly on the shoulder, “come on, it’ll be fun!”  
“How do you know this guy again?”  
“He’s Hunk’s roommate,” Pidge shrugged, “apparently they’re best friends. Whatever, we’re getting a free session with him, we have to go.”  
“No, we don’t,” Keith insisted, “look, I’m sure that Hunk is a great guy and I know that you’d trust him with your life. But you do know that this is all bullshit, right? He’s not a witch, he’s a scammer.”  
“But he’ll do it for free this time,” they told him, “why would he lie for free?”  
“I don’t know,” Keith shrugged, “maybe he likes to mess with people. Or maybe he’s just crazy. Whatever, I don’t want to go. Why do you even need me there? Just go on your own.”  
“No, I don’t want to go alone! Besides, I bet it works better with four people than with three.”  
“I’m not going, and that’s final. I have better things to do.”  
  
Pidge opened their mouth, most likely to argue, but they decided against it. They went eerily quiet for a moment, which made Keith relax for just a split second before realizing that their silence is suspicious.  
“You have to go,” they said at last, now smiling.  
“No I don’t,” Keith tried, but it was clear by their smile that he had already lost this argument.  
“Yes, you do. Remember that favor you owe me?”  
Keith covered his face with his hands and sighed heavily. “Seriously? You’re going to waste that on some… Charlatan?”   
“He’s a witch,” said Pidge, “and you bet your ass I’m going to use it. I’ll get a new one out of you next time I get you drunk enough for another game of poker.”  
“I’m never going to play with you, ever again,” Keith muttered into his coffee.  
“Doesn’t matter, you have to do it now.”  
Keith grunted loudly, but there was no way for him to get out of this. He had to go now, and he already hated it.  
“What did you say he called himself again?”

 

The words “The Blue Lion’s Den” were written in golden letters on a sign on the door. It was surrounded by stars and glitter, which was extremely tacky to Keith’s taste.   
“We can still run away now,” Keith whispered, “we can still save ourselves.”  
“Relax,” Pidge whispered back, “it’s going to be fun. You know I don’t believe in that crap either. Just suspend your disbelief for a while, we’re here to have fun.”  
They reached up and rang the doorbell. Even the sound of the doorbell was ridiculous - it was a rather creepy violin. Keith was already annoyed beyond belief. He had never met Hunk before either, and the idea of meeting new people on their territory for very questionable activities was not at all helpful for his anxiety.

A young man opened the door. He was tall and took up most of the door frame, which was slightly intimidating, but the warm smile on his face made up for that.   
“You guys are right on time,” he said, “good to see you, Pidge,” they exchanged a quick hug, “and you must be Keith.”  
Keith extended his hand for a polite handshake, but Hunk ignored it and pulled him into a hug as well. It was a bit too friendly for Keith, but he said nothing. They walked into what appeared to be a suspiciously normal living room. A large couch and an armchair, a television, some bookshelves and a large houseplant in the corner. Keith expected crystal balls and a giant cauldron, or at least a dark and mysterious atmosphere, but there was… Nothing.  
  
“What’s the matter?” Hunk asked him, since apparently his puzzled look betrayed his confusion.  
Pidge let out a laugh. “I think he was expecting your place to look more like a witch’s hut, you know.”  
“Oh,” Hunk chuckled, “no, he keeps that stuff locked in the Ghost Room. This is just our apartment, you know. We live here.”  
“I’m sorry,” said Keith, “did you just say Ghost Room?”  
Hunk laughed, clearly amused by Keith’s reaction. “I can’t show it to you before he’s here – he should be back in a few minutes, so you won’t have to wait long. He also hates that I call it that, he refers to it as the workroom, but come on. It’s where we keep our ghost, so it’s obviously a Ghost Room.”  
“Your… Ghost?” Keith looked at him, his desire to leave sharper than ever. Hunk gestured at them to sit down on the couch. Pidge didn’t have to be told twice. They threw themselves onto the couch and immediately looked as if they’d lived there for years. Keith sat down in the corner, his arms crossed.  
“Yeah, that room is haunted,” Hunk explained, “ever since I moved in I noticed that weird stuff kept happening. Like, I gave up on trying to change a lightbulb in there because it would literally burn out a few hours after I’d put in a new one. And there were always noises, and things moved, it was crazy. But then Lance moved in – “  
“Lance?” Keith’s heart felt as if it dropped to his stomach.  
“Oh, right, sorry. _The Mysterious and Wonderful Blue Lion_ moved in,” Hunk said, not exactly mocking but clearly not serious, “and he was really psyched to hear about my ghost stories. He told me that the ghost’s name is Coran, and we kind of made friends with him. Anyway, that room has some sort of energy, I guess, so Lance – sorry, Blue Lion – turned it into his workplace.”  
“His name is Lance?” Keith asked, he barely heard the rest of the story after that name was mentioned.  
“Yes,” Hunk sighed, “he hates it when I ruin the illusion in front of customers. But whatever, you guys aren’t really customers, right? You’re friends.”  
Hunk seemed oblivious to Keith’s immediate breakdown, but Pidge knew him better. While Hunk went to the kitchen for refreshments, they scooted closer to him.

“What’s the matter?” they asked, “do you know this Lance guy?”  
“Do you think there’s a chance that this is a different Lance guy?” Keith asked quietly.  
“It’s not a very common name,” they said, “but who knows. Who are you thinking about?”  
Keith took a deep breath. “Remember that guy from high school who hated me and made fun of me all the time? The guy who… Who spread the rumor?”  
“Please don’t tell me that the witch we’re here to see is your high school bully,” said Pidge, their face dead serious.   
“I really fucking hope not,” he whispered, “but if he is, I’m so out of here.”  
“There’s no way,” Pidge said, “I mean, what are the chances that this guy you told me about, that terrible asshole who made your life a living hell, is best friends with Hunk? There’s just no way.”

At that exact moment the door swung open and Lance walked in, plastic bags in both hands. He kicked the door closed and dropped the bags dramatically to the floor.  
“Hunk, you’re not going to believe what just happened to me,” he turned to face the kitchen, not even noticing Keith and Pidge on the couch, “so there was this guy in line right in front of me, and he was a real dick to the cashier. Like, a real dick. He fucking made that poor girl cry. I’m pretty sure she’s new there, she doesn’t deserve that. So I politely told him to fuck off. That guy was already all fired up, I guess, because he tried to punch me. I ducked, he fell. So I was like – that’s it, right? He’s going to calm down now. WRONG! That… That rude, hairy, gremlin looking weirdo grabbed for one of my bags and got hold of the milk, and he fucking threw it at me! I ducked again, but the milk hit some other dude in the face. Poor guy. It spilled over my shoes though! My new shoes!”  
“Um, Lance?” Hunk raised his eyebrows at him.  
“Oh don’t worry,” Lance told him, “security got hold of that guy. They didn’t offer compensation for my shoes, though, apparently they were too busy apologizing to the guy who got hit in the face with a milk carton. Why are you holding a tray of cookies?”  
“Yeah, I tried to tell you, we have guests,” Hunk nodded towards the living room and Lance spun around, finally noticing them. By that point there was no doubt about it; Keith only knew one Lance in his life.  
“Oh, you must be Pidge,” Lance smiled as he approached them, “and so this is – “   
Keith’s heart skipped a beat as Lance’s eyes landed on him. His mouth froze in some sort of a scowl, and he looked up, waiting for the recognition to sink in.

“Keith?” Lance’s mouth dropped open, but he forced himself to close it. “I know you,” Lance then said, “wow, what a small world. Do you remember me? Well, I’m sure you do. I’m quite unforgettable.” Lance flashed him a brilliant smile and he wiggled his eyebrows a little. Keith was very set on leaving up until that moment, but that response changed his mind in an instant.  
“Huh?” Keith raised his eyebrows in fake confusion, “I’ve never seen you in my life.”  
He could feel Pidge’s eyes on him, but they were smart enough to stay quiet. Lance was visibly offended by that.  
“What do you mean you’ve never – high school!” Lance threw his hands up in disbelief, “Lance, remember me? I was quite popular, everyone liked me? I always sat behind you in class? We were rivals.”  
“Are you sure it was me?” Keith asked, “I swear I’ve never seen your face before.”  
Lance looked as him as if he said something scandalous. Hunk chuckled lightly at his reaction and offered them cookies.  
“It doesn’t matter, buddy,” he said, “let’s just get it started. Let’s show them the Ghost Room, Keith was very underwhelmed by how unmagical our apartment is.”  
“Hunk, I told you not to call it that,” Lance whispered. Then he looked at Keith, his eyes accusing. “Underwhelmed, huh? Oh that is so like you.” He then took a deep breath and rubbed his eyes. “Fine,” he said, “I’ll go change into my professional attire. Will you take care of the groceries?”  
“Yes dear,” said Hunk, his voice full of fondness, and turned around to tend to the plastic bags. Lance disappeared down the corridor, and Keith was left with Pidge again.

“Changed your mind?” they asked him.  
“I’m going to do this out of spite,” Keith whispered, “I’m going to show him how it feels when someone makes fun of you.”  
“Wow, so petty, Keith,” said Pidge, “dial it down a notch? He doesn’t seem that bad so far.”  
“He’s an arrogant, self-absorbed asshole,” said Keith, “and I’m going to make him pay.”   
Pidge seemed to decide against arguing. They focused on the cookies Hunk brought them and checked out the books on the shelf.   
When Lance finally appeared in the room again, Keith had to be the one to keep his jaw from dropping this time.  
  
He was dressed in a white maxi skirt, a colorful tank top and a light shawl over his bare shoulders. He had small flower earrings in both ears and a face covered with glittery make up, blue swirls decorating its left side. He was also wearing a massive blue flower crown, and there was so much jewelry on him that it jiggled loudly as he walked.  
“Ah, welcome, my guests,” he said in a weird voice, a little more high pitched than usual and with an air of fake calmness, “my name is Blue Lion, and I will be your guide to the world of mystery and magic today. I invite you to step into the – “  
He was interrupted by Hunk, who brought in a pitcher of cold lemonade. “Homemade,” he said as he placed it on the coffee table, “drink up.”  
“Hunk, you’re ruining my speech,” Lance whispered in his normal voice.  
“Oh! Sorry, buddy. Would you like me to come in with you, or do you want to give them a private reading first?”  
“I… No, I want to give them an introduction first. Just – ugh, why do I even bother? Just get your asses in here.”

They were led through a door which was entirely covered with a painting of space. Keith didn’t say anything as they walked past it, but he silently appreciated the talent of whoever painted that door. Inside, Keith finally got the in-your-face load of mystic bullshit that he anticipated from the moment he walked into the apartment. The room had no windows, or perhaps there was one but it was very well hidden behind heavy curtains. Instead, it was lit by fairy lights and glowing items carefully placed all around. There were soft fabrics hanging over the walls, covering the floor and even the ceiling. It made the room feel strangely small and more crowded than it was. There were bookcases across one of the walls and a round table in the center of the room. Keith spotted everything on his checklist of mystical bullshit within eight seconds – crystals, candles, one large crystal ball, tarot cards, a strange looking Ouija board. There were even small vials of what looked like potions. This guy was clearly nuts.  
One thing Keith couldn’t deny no matter how much he wanted to, was that the room did give him chills. It was immediately a few degrees colder, there was some quiet harp music playing in the background, and it smelled of herbs and smoke.   
“Welcome,” Lance smiled at them, “please take a seat around the table.”

There were six chairs around the table. No two chairs were the same. They looked as if they were bought in different places, in different centuries, by different people. They were also decorated a little too much. Each chair had a unique set of bows and bells attached to it, as if a child was tasked with making them pretty. Keith chose the black chair between Pidge and Hunk.  
“Whatever you want to do today is your choice,” Lance said, using the voice of Blue Lion again, “I’m simply here as a bridge. People usually come to me because they have questions, so – hey, are you listening?”   
Lance snapped his fingers in Keith’s direction, so he dragged his gaze back to Lance’s painted face.   
“Why are you dressed like that?” he asked. Lance seemed to be taken aback by this, but before he could ask for an explanation Keith provided him with another question. “Where is your pointed hat and your broomstick?”  
Lance gave him the coldest look he could muster. “Ha ha,” he said without a trace of a smile, “so original, never heard that one before. Any more of these you’d like to get out of your system? Want to see my magic wand? Any puns about turning people into toads?”  
“Maybe something about the lack of warts on your face,” Keith offered.  
“Well, that’s because I take care of my skin, thank you for noticing. I could give you some tips, if you want, your skin looks a little dry – “  
“Let’s not,” Keith raised his hand to stop him, “I’m done. Just do whatever it is you’re here to do. Pidge, ask your questions.”  
Keith hated that Lance was quick on his feet and could talk back to him like that. He wanted the spotlight off of himself.  
  
“Are you going to tell us about our future, oh Great, Wonderful Blue Lion?” Pidge had a wide smile on their face and they seemed rather amused. Lance was glad that someone was willing to play along. He decided to start with something “fun and traditional” and began to perform a tea-brewing ritual. Keith didn’t have to try hard to look unamused, he didn’t like tea in the first place and Lance’s ridiculous performance only convinced him further that this was nothing but a silly ruse for idiots. All four of them drank the tea, and Lance dropped the Blue Lion persona because he seemed genuinely excited to explain their readings to them. Pidge was eager to go first (“Do me! Do me!” they demanded) so Lance moved closer to them and took the cup from their hands. It took him a while as he turned the cup around in his hands, looking at it as if he was reading actual words written in the tea leaves.

“Aha,” he said at last, “this is good. All right. Overall, we have a very positive picture here. So I see a sheep and a small crown right beside it.” Pidge jumped up to look with curiosity. “What? Where, show me.”  
Lance moved to show them the cup and point at the symbols, “here,” he said, “you see?”  
“Oh wow,” Pidge seemed impressed, “that really looks like a sheep. Four legs and everything.”  
“Yes,” Lance smiled, “and these are both good signs of success. Success and honor.”  
“Success and honor?” Pidge seemed smug, “maybe I’ll finally have a breakthrough with my project! I really hope so.”  
“That’s interesting,” Lance said, “because I see both a hammer and an axe, and they are both about overcoming difficulties and succeeding after hard work. You’re just glowing with success, I guess you should expect good news. Now, here I also see Ivy, which is all about faithful friends and happiness. Very good, Pidge.”  
Pidge smiled in triumph and punched Keith lightly on the shoulder. “Did you hear that, faithful friend?”  
“The leaves are lying,” Keith said, “I’m going to betray you as soon as I can.”  
“Maybe you’re not my friend then,” they stuck their tongue out at him, but there was no heat behind their banter. Lance reached for Hunk’s cup then, which also had a very positive reading, along with some promise of meeting a beautiful woman and falling in love. Next, he grabbed Keith’s cup. Keith refused to move or show interest.

Lance’s smile disappeared as he studied the cup, and Keith would think that he was messing with him, but his expression was way too serious.   
“Please tell me you see my death in there,” Keith offered with a cold smile.  
“No, I see… This isn’t good, Keith. Danger, bad luck… Do you have any enemies? This is… Oh. But there’s a heart.”  
“A heart?”  
“I guess you’re going to suffer some great misfortune, but you’ll find love at the end.”  
“Wow,” said Keith, “are you even trying? This has no connection to reality whatsoever.”  
Lance put down the cup with annoyance. “Shut up,” he said, “there’s nothing worse than a skeptic. Whatever, let me see mine.”  
Lance raised his own cup to the light.  
  
“Can you really do your own reading?” Pidge asked.  
“Yeah, sure, I like seeing my own – “ his face fell so suddenly that even Keith was a little bit worried.   
“No fucking way,” he said.   
Hunk and Pidge both moved closer to look at the cup.  
“Look at this,” he told them, then grabbed Keith’s cup again and placed them next to each other.  
“Holy shit,” said Pidge, “I can totally see it. The snakes? They’re even the same shape. Fuck, man.”  
“You also have a heart in yours,” Hunk pointed out.  
“I guess we’re both going to go through some tough shit and find love at the end,” Lance mused.  
“Well, it’s not all the same,” Pidge pointed out, “what’s this one in yours?”  
“Oh, I see a basket,” said Lance, “that’s an addition to the family. My sister is pregnant, makes sense.”  
“And Keith has like a deer-thing,” Hunk added.  
“That’s quarrels,” Lance explained, “and since it’s close to the snakes, I figured it has to do with enemies. I don’t know now. This is weird.”  
“It’s nonsense,” said Keith, “that’s why it’s weird. It makes no sense.”

Lance was visibly irritated by this. They ditched the teacups and moved on to the strange Ouija board. Lance offered them to talk to Coran, since he was a friendly ghost and he mostly liked to chill.   
It was cliché and stupid. They turned off some of the lights and lit a few candles, they moved closer to each other so they could hold hands, and Lance talked to the air in that stupid fake voice of his. They all had one finger touching the glass flower on the board, and when Lance asked Coran whether he was there with them, it almost immediately moved to “yes.”  
“Now you’re not even trying,” Keith sighed as he moved his hand away and leaned back, “this is so stupid. Do you think we’re idiots? I’m really glad you have such nice friends who want to humor you and play pretend, but I’m not going to do that. You’re not a child, you’re an adult man.”  
“Ah, here come the deer-quarrels,” Pidge muttered.   
“All right,” Lance removed his hand from the board, “do it without me then. Ask him a question.”  
“Sure,” Keith returned his finger to the flower and asked, “hey Coran, is Lance full of shit?” He then purposefully moved the flower back to “yes” and flashed Lance his satisfied smile.

“All right, that’s it,” Lance got up on his feet and took away the board, “I’m pulling out the big guns.”  
Hunk seemed slightly worried. “Lance, buddy, don’t take it so hard – “  
“I’m going to show him!” Lance insisted. He blew out the candles and replaced them with five black candles. He shooed them out of their seats and began to move the furniture around.  
“Lance, you’re scaring me,” Hunk said quietly, but Lance asked him to help with moving the table and he couldn’t refuse. By the time Lance was done, he had an old looking book open in his lap, a large sigil drawn on top of a clean piece of fabric he placed on the floor, five black candles lit and strategically placed around the room, and a dagger in his hands.   
“So is it just me or does it look like we’re about to summon a demon?” Pidge offered with a nervous smile.  
“Oh yes, we’re summoning a demon all right,” said Lance, “and that demon is going to scare the shit out of Keith so that he’s never going to call me a liar ever again.”  
“You think you’re going to scare me with dimmed lights and a bad drawing?” Keith rolled his eyes, “wow, you’re completely off the rails.”  
“Shut up!” Lance snapped and flipped through the pages of his book so hard it was a wonder how he didn’t rip them right out.   
“Cool,” said Pidge, “so we’re summoning a demon.”  
“Um, no, not cool,” Hunk corrected them, “scary and dangerous. I know you guys don’t really believe in this stuff but I’ve seen some things and – Lance, please, I think you proved your point enough.”  
“I proved nothing,” said Lance, “I’m going to show him what I can do. I’m going to curse his ass and he will beg me to reverse it.”  
“I think you’re biting off more than you can chew,” Hunk whispered to him. Keith could only hear what he said because the room was so quiet, but Hunk seemed sincerely worried.

“Aha!” Lance pointed hard at the page he was looking for. Hunk looked at it over his shoulder.  
“Aamon?” He read.  
“Yes, he’s not that high and mighty,” Lance said, “but he should be impressive enough, if I do this right. Okay, stand back.”  
Lance made them stand between the candles and outside of the sigil while he chanted something in an unfamiliar language and used all sorts of strange ingredients. He burned some herbs, which made the room impossible to breathe in and they had to open the door to let the smoke out. Then he spread some weird powdery substance on the floor, which he claimed to be ashes but Keith suspected that it was just some sand. Then he cut his finger and let a few drops of his blood fall onto the sigil, which seemed like a bit too much. Then again, Lance was a bit too much in general. Then the chanting stopped, and the temperature in the room dropped with unnatural speed. The door closed with a loud thud, making them all jump, and then all of the lights went off. As in, every single source of light in the room. The fairy lights, the candles, even the fake crystals that were glowing on the shelves, and those were powered by batteries. Keith was paralyzed with fear, he suddenly realized that something was going terribly wrong. And then a voice boomed in the room, and Keith had to stifle a yell, because this voice belonged to none of them.  
  
“Who dares summon me here?” asked the voice.  
Keith felt as if he was trapped in a nightmare. He wanted to move, but his legs felt frozen.  
“I did, Lord Aamon,” said Lance, his voice a little weak.  
“And what are you, exactly?”  
Keith couldn’t see Lance’s face in the darkness, but he could tell by the tone of his voice that he was confused by the question.  
“I’m a… Human?”  
“Are you, now? I heard you go by the name ‘Blue Lion’.”  
“It’s a – a nickname, Sir.”  
“Well, Blue Lion, why are you wasting my time?”  
“I was just trying to convince a skeptic, Sir,” said Lance.  
Keith felt as if he was being thrown under the bus.  
  
“Ah, yes, I can feel it,” said the creepy voice in the room, “there is one skeptic here, one you have a quarrel with. Name yourself, skeptic.”  
Keith couldn’t find his voice.  
“I said, name yourself.” This time, the voice came from right beside his ear. He jumped with surprise before his whole body froze again, and he felt chills running down his spine. He was shaking.  
“Keith,” he managed to let out.  
“Keith…” The voice mused, not so close now, “Keith does not believe in magic. Keith does not believe in ghosts. Keith does not believe… In Blue Lion. Right! I know what to do.”  
“I – well, I think you’ve already done your share, Sir,” said Lance, “with all due respect. I thank you for your time and – “  
“Don’t be a fool, Blue Lion,” the voice cut him off, “you do not summon a demon to chitchat and let him go with nothing in return. What will you give me?”  
“What?” Lance’s voice came out choked.  
“In return for my help, what will you give me?”  
“I – what kind of offer are you expecting, Lord Aamon?”  
  
Surprisingly, the demon sighed. It sounded eerily human.  
“It used to be so easy back when we could just ask for your soul, or your first-born child… Now souls are practically worthless due to inflation and humans are so unreliable when it comes to giving birth. Ha, would you believe that Keith here still does not believe I am real? He thinks you are playing a trick on him.”  
Keith’s heart did a somersault and hammered against his ribcage. That thought just crossed his mind, merely a second before the demon uttered it.  
“I know what I want,” the demon said after a few excruciating moments of silence, “give me the ring.”  
“What ring?” Lance croaked.  
“You know what ring, Blue Lion. Your grandmother’s ring. The one your sister gave you.”  
“What? That’s the family ring, I can’t – “  
“Are you refusing to meet my demands, Blue Lion?” the voice sounded louder, angrier, “would you like me to pick something else? Your friend’s life, for example?”  
There was a sharp thud then, and Hunk yelped somewhere to Keith’s right. His eyes were starting to get used to the dark, but he could just barely make Hunk’s silhouette and figure out what was going on. Hunk was on his knees, but Keith couldn’t tell whether he was hurt.  
“No! No, okay, you can take the ring,” Lance sighed, “just don’t… Just leave him alone. Here.”  
There was some shuffling, and Lance made a strange, stifled sound.   
“All right, it is decided,” said the demon, “I will grant you this favor. Keith will no longer be a skeptic by the time this is over. I am going to fix your bigger problem, too.”  
“What bigger problem?” Lance breathed.  
“Oh, you will thank me later,” the demon said, “you will probably curse my name a thousand times before you do, but I do not care. It only tickles a little when you do. Right! I will be back to set things right once you have learned your lesson. Adieu.”

A loud pop then echoed in the room, as if someone pricked a balloon with a pin. Keith fell to his knees. The wind was knocked out of his lungs, he felt very dizzy all of a sudden, and he wasn’t sure whether he fell to the floor or was still on his knees. He got even more disoriented when the door opened and blinding light flooded the room. He blinked rapidly, and as his eyes got used to the light, he felt a few things very suddenly. One, the forefinger on his left hand stung; two, his neck felt suddenly heavy, as if there was a chain around it; and three, there was a strange taste of mint in his mouth he couldn’t explain. When he outstretched his left hand to look at his finger, it jiggled. Not only were there three bracelets on it, but it was a few shades too dark to be his own hand. Only then did he realize that he was nowhere near the spot where he was supposed to be standing. His eyes darted up and across the room to meet a pair of eyes that looked just as terrified as he felt. The most terrifying part was that those eyes were his own.

It was bizarre, like looking in some twisted mirror. His brain offered the only possible explanation, but he refused to acknowledge it.   
“What the hell was that?” said Pidge, finally breaking the silence. Then they looked straight at Keith, fire in their eyes. “Did you actually summon a demon in your own house? I thought this was the kind of shit only stupid white people do, Lance!”  
That sealed it. He really was in Lance’s body.   
“That son of a bitch!” Lance cried out. It sounded strange in Keith’s voice, and he got up to his feet rather clumsily, patting himself like a madman.   
Hunk and Pidge both watched him with confusion.   
Keith pulled himself up as well. He crossed the room in three quick steps and caught Lance by his – his own – throat.   
  
“Whoa whoa – “ Pidge and Hunk both took a step forward, but Keith froze with Lance’s throat in his hands, not exactly strangling him but squeezing him tight enough for it to be a warning.   
“Fix this,” he said, his voice foreign to his own ears, “now.”  
“Are you kidding me? I can’t!” Lance swatted at his hand and Keith was taken aback by how strong he was.   
“Whoa, guys,” said Hunk, “what’s the matter with you?”  
“What do you mean you can’t? You’re supposed to be a witch!” Keith spat, annoyed by how high pitched that came out.  
“Lance, buddy, what are you on?” Hunk asked, “Keith is not a witch, he’s – “  
Keith turned around and pointed to his face. “Keith, right here,” he said, “Lance is over there.”  
Hunk and Pidge stared at them, waiting for them to admit that this was all a terrible prank.  
“It’s true,” Lance sighed, “I guess Aamon decided to do a little switcheroo with our bodies. Damn you, I hope you burn in hell!” he yelled at the floor.  
  
“Are they fucking with us?” Pidge asked, not at all discreet.  
“No, guys, it’s totally serious,” said Lance, “like, okay. Hunk, you have that scar on your right asscheek from a snakebite you got two years ago. How would Keith know that?”  
Hunk gasped, and he seemed immediately convinced. Pidge, however, was still eyeing them with suspicion.  
“Alright then, ‘Keith’,” they used airquotes to frame his name, “what’s my brother’s name?”  
“Matt,” Keith answered.  
“What is our favorite café?”   
“Paulo’s, which is pretty sad. It’s only our favorite since it’s the closest to our place.”  
“What’s the name of Shiro’s girlfriend?”  
“Ha, you know damn well that my brother has been single for about three years now, good try.”  
“Oh my god, Keith!” Pidge finally exclaimed, moving forward to grab his face and look into his eyes, “is it really you? This is amazing!”  
“Terrible is the word you’re looking for,” Keith told them.  
“Truly awful,” Lance added.  
“Horrendous.”   
“A disaster.”  
“An actual nightmare.”  
“Okay, I get it,” Pidge interrupted, “so what do we do now?”  
  
“There’s nothing we can do,” said Lance, “you heard him, he said that he’s going to fix it when we – oh.”  
“Oh, what?” Keith turned to face him again.  
“I just remembered,” Lance said, “Aamon is supposed to be… Um… He kind of likes to reconcile broken friendships, mend relationships, find compromises between enemies, stuff like that.”  
“So?”  
“So he sensed conflict,” Lance explained, “remember your quarrel-deer? Yeah, apparently we have problems that, as he thinks, need fixing. Yeah, I didn’t think of that when I summoned him.”  
“I don’t care about any of that,” said Keith, “how do we get back? I don’t want to be stuck in your stupid body.”  
“Hey, you’re the luckiest man on Earth to be stuck in my body!” Lance pointed a finger at him.  
“Don’t you point my own finger at me,” said Keith, “tell me how to fix it.”  
“We can’t, are you actually that stupid?” Lance sounded irritated, which suited Keith’s voice strangely well, “it’s a demon deal. I… Apparently, I paid for this. Only the demon can reverse it.”  
“Well, then drag his ass back here and ask him to switch us back!”  
“For the love of everything that's holy, Hunk, can you please explain to this guy why he’s an absolute idiot? I don’t have the patience.” Lance turned around and began to rub his temples.  
Hunk offered a kind smile. “Have you ever seen Freaky Friday?”  
“Freaky what now?” Keith raised an eyebrow at him.  
“Right,” Hunk chuckled, “I think what Lance is trying to say, and what the demon implied, is… You will only get back to your own bodies once you get over your differences and learn to understand each other.”  
“Well, that’s not going to happen anytime soon,” Keith frowned.  
“It has to,” Hunk shrugged, “otherwise you’ll just be stuck like that.”

Keith didn’t want to hear any of this. He insisted on summoning the demon again. Lance pointed out that Keith was the one in the witch’s body now, and that he would have to perform the ritual. Pidge and Hunk both complained and asked to take a break for dinner, but Keith and Lance insisted on trying. Lance walked him through the ritual and Keith tried to summon the demon. It didn’t work. He tried for a total of six times before Pidge threatened to murder the both of them if they don’t get something to eat soon, so they ordered food. The four of them felt rather defeated as they waited for the delivery.

“I can’t do this,” Keith said, “I have work tomorrow, what am I going to do? Appear with this face and pretend that I just had a really bad weekend?”  
“Ha ha, very funny,” said Lance with the coldest poker face possible, “you think I want to stay in your un-moisturized skin? I have work too, you know. I have customers booked for weeks, and I bet I make at least twice the money you do.”  
“Fooling people pays better than being a waiter for minimum wage,” Keith muttered.  
“Seriously?” Lance snapped, “I just summoned an actual demon who made us switch bodies and you still think I’m fooling people?”  
“Fine,” Keith threw his hands up in frustration, “so maybe some of it is real. But tea leaves and Ouija boards? Come on. You don’t actually believe in that bullshit.”  
“Oh, we’ll see how you talk once you’ve seen your first couple of ghosts, okay?” Lance said.  
“Whatever you say.”

Eventually, they resolved to completely ignore each other. Hunk and Lance sat together on the windowsill and Keith joined Pidge on the couch. When the food arrived they ate mostly in silence. Pidge helped Hunk with cleaning up when they were done, and while they were in the kitchen, Keith’s phone started to ring.

“Crap,” he said upon looking at the screen, “it’s my brother.”  
“You have a brother?” Lance asked, even though Keith was pretty sure he already mentioned that earlier. Lance was ridiculously clueless.  
“I can’t answer,” Keith began to panic, “you have my voice, you need to answer.”  
“What? I don’t know what to tell him.”  
“Just say that you can’t speak and that you’ll call him later. Ready?”  
Lance didn’t get the chance to respond before Keith answered the phone and put it on speaker, pushing it towards Lance.  
  
“Um… Hi, bro,” Lance said, stupidly, “how’s it hanging?”  
Keith gave him an incredulous look and mouthed “what are you doing?” Lance’s only reaction was a shrug.  
“Huh?” Shiro answered, confused, “Keith, are you… Drunk?”  
Lance seemed lost and helpless. “I – no, haha, I was just messing with you,” he tried to save himself.  
“Okay…” Shiro didn’t sound convinced, “anyway, remember that bowling thing we have on Saturday? You told me you’d have an answer by now. So are you coming? I kind of need to know.”  
Keith shook his head frantically to indicate that Lance should say no. There was no way he would make plans with his brother before they sort this thing out.  
“Uh, no,” thankfully Lance got the hint, “sorry, I can’t make it.”  
“Oh,” said Shiro, “why not?”  
“I have a…” Lance began, but there was no second half for that sentence. He looked to Keith, his eyes pleading. Keith was about to mouth the word “work”, but Lance panicked and said “a date” instead.  
“Did you just say you have a date?” Shiro asked.  
Lance sighed. “Yes,” he said, “sorry. Anyway, I can’t really talk right now, so I’ll text you later, okay?”  
“You’re not getting off the hook so easily!” Shiro said, “what do you mean you have a date? With whom?”  
“Sorry, have to go, bye-bye.” Lance hung up and threw the phone onto the couch, covering his face with his hands.  
“What the fuck have you done?” Keith snapped at him.  
“I’m sorry, okay? I panicked!”  
“I hate you.”  
“Well, I hate you right back.”

They turned away from each other, both too angry to speak. Pidge and Hunk returned, coming slowly and awkwardly into the living room.  
“Keith,” Pidge said, “I want to go home.”  
“Right,” said Keith, “I guess we should get going. We’ll figure it out later.”  
“Um, no,” said Pidge, “Hunk and I just had a talk about it, and I think… The whole point is for the two of you to switch lives, too.”  
“Huh?” Keith raised his eyebrow at them.  
“I think you should stay here and pose as Lance, and Lance should come back with me.”  
“What? Pidge – “  
“No, listen,” Pidge cut him off, “just… Think about the little things, right? Your clothes are not going to fit Lance’s body. And if you go home like this and brush your teeth - it’s going to be Lance’s teeth and Lance’s germs, right? Disgusting. And besides, if the demon wants you to experience what it is to be each other, this is the quickest way to turn you back.”  
  
As always, Pidge made perfect sense even if their words were infuriating. It was all true. Keith turned to look at Lance.  
“Don’t touch my things unless it’s necessary,” he pointed a finger at him, “and don’t do anything gross in my room.”  
“Like what?” Lance asked, “what do you take me for? Some animal who would just come into your room and pee all over the place?”  
“Well, yes,” said Keith, “more or less. Pidge, don’t let him do anything fishy.”  
“Don’t worry,” Pidge smiled at him, “I’ll show him the way of Keith. Come on, Lance, it’s a very dark and sad way to go, I hope you’re ready.”  
“I’m never going to be ready for that,” said Lance, but neither of them protested much. They switched phones and exchanged numbers in case of an emergency. Keith made Lance call the restaurant and say that he’s sick to get the day off, and Lance made him text his customers to cancel their appointments. With that, Lance and Pidge walked out the door. Keith was left with Hunk in an apartment that wasn’t his, wearing clothes that weren’t his, sleeping in someone else’s bed, and breathing in someone else’s body.


	2. High School Bullies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance wants them to talk about family and work, but this process of getting to know each other is hindered by the unresolved issues of the past. Keith and Lance confront painful memories from their high school years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw for mentions of bullying and homophobia in this chapter.

Once Keith was out of sight, Lance realized that he quite liked Pidge. They were a little irritated with him at first, but they got along rather well and Lance didn’t feel the urge to bicker the way he felt around Keith. Their apartment, however, turned out to be smaller and less appealing than Lance's. Lance was not exactly wealthy, but his work earned him enough coin to pay rent and be comfortable in a three-bedroom apartment, which was more than most can afford. Keith and Pidge, it seemed, could not afford such luxuries. The living room was half the size he was used to, the kitchen was barely large enough to turn around in without knocking something over and there was no tub in the bathroom, only a shower. Keith’s bedroom, too, was smaller than Lance’s. The fact that the walls were dark and covered in posters made it feel even smaller. Lance was used to sleeping in a king sized bed, where he could spread his long limbs and  feel comfortable. Keith’s single bed was tiny and not particularly soft. He hated it.

Lance was also horrified to find out that Keith did not take care of his skin at all, and his closet was so devoid of color that it almost made him sorry for the guy. Lance changed into some sweats and found an elastic band to tie that stupid hair back. He looked at himself in the mirror. With the hair pushed back, Keith’s exposed jawline looked suddenly much more attractive. Lance had mixed feelings about this. He didn’t want to pay Keith any compliments, but he was also glad that he didn’t have to be trapped inside someone who looked completely hideous. Those dark circles around the eyes, however, were pathetic and needed some work.

“Hey, Pidge,” Lance greeted them as he walked into the small living room and joined them on the creaky couch, “does Keith even sleep at night? He looks as if he hasn’t had a date with a pillow in a few months or so.”  
“Ha,” said Pidge, turning on the TV, “he’s quite the night owl, I guess. He kind of needs his space in the evening, so I don’t bother him unless he willingly comes out of his room to hang. I’m not one to turn in early either, but sometimes I go to bed at 3AM and the light in his room is still on.”  
“Right,” Lance sighed, “no wonder he’s so miserable. Hey, what’s the deal with his brother then?”  
“What do you mean?”  
“Didn’t know he had one. Shiro, is it?”  
“Yes,” Pidge said, “but I don’t want to talk to you about it. It’s his deal, talk to him if you want information.”  
  
“Wow, you’re a tough nut to crack, aren’t you?” Lance teased.  
“It’s weird when you say something so silly in Keith’s voice,” they said, “and no, I'm not. Usually, you can't make me shut up. But I’m first and foremost a good friend. And I’ve known you for, what, seven hours now?”  
“Loyal, I like it,” said Lance, “Hunk is like that too.”  
“I know he is,” Pidge nodded, “are you doing okay in Keith’s room?”  
“His computer has a password and he refuses to give it to me,” Lance complained.  
“Rightly so.”  
“Hey, how pissed would he be if I get him a haircut?”  
“You’re as good as dead just for thinking about it.”  
“Come on, when he sees how good he looks without that stupid mullet of his, I bet he’ll forgive me right away.”  
“And I’ll have to help him bury the body,” Pidge sighed, as if this was not at all hypothetical, “I don’t even have a shovel. Where do you buy a shovel?”  
“Fine, I get the hint,” Lance rolled his eyes, “I guess I wouldn’t want him to change anything on my body either.”

* * *

 

Keith spent way too long washing the make-up off his face. He rubbed his eyes until his skin was red and irritated, then Hunk finally told him that there is a special product for that, which made his life much easier. The product was on the impossible busy vanity in Lance’s bedroom. Just looking at it made him dizzy. He picked up a few different bottles to read the labels, and was astounded to find out that there are different creams for hands and feet, as well as a few different body lotions and a variety of face creams, different ones for daycare and nighttime, and that’s without even counting all of the other different products he had no knowledge of (what the hell is a scrub and what are you supposed to scrub with it, exactly?) Keith gave up on cleaning his face and changed his clothes instead. He wanted to take a shower, badly, just to drown out the world around him for a while. But then he realized that he would have to look at Lance naked for that, and the thought terrified him. Using the bathroom already proved to be a challenge, since he refused to look down and had to clean the floor afterwards. Then he thought about whether Lance was as bothered about this as he was, and that made him a thousand times more anxious. He climbed into Lance’s bed and fell asleep for thirteen hours.

Waking up to see yourself sitting on the side of the bed can feel like a horrible nightmare, as Keith so unpleasantly found out the next day. It took him a long moment of panic to pull himself up and realize that it was Lance, staring at him in disgust.  
“I’ve never looked this bad in my entire life,” he said, “how did you manage to make me look so pathetic?”  
“I think that’s just your face,” Keith grunted as he buried his face in the pillow again and pulled the blanket up to his ears. “Go away,” he said, “I’m trying to sleep.”  
“Hunk says that you haven’t said a word to him,” Lance ignored him, “he’s worried about you. Do you hear me? You’re being rude and I don’t like it.”  
“That wasn’t me being rude,” said Keith from under the blanket, “you want to see rude? Fuck you, get out.”  
“No,” said Lance, “we’re both taking the day off because I need to teach you to do my job, and you need to teach me about yours. I’m not going to lose any more money because you’re moping around.”  
“You can’t make me,” said Keith and he rolled over, turning his back on Lance.

The bed creaked as there was movement and the weight on Lance’s side disappeared, which led Keith to believe that Lance was finally gone. He relaxed back into sleep. That was the wrong move, however, because he woke up moments later to the loudest bang in the universe. He sat up at once, startled, to find Lance standing there banging two pots together.   
“Rise and shine, sleepy head!” he yelled as he kept banging them.  
“I’m going to fucking kill you,” Keith growled. Lance laughed, underestimating Keith’s rage, but he was dead serious. Lance only dropped the pots when Keith shoved away the blanket and jumped out of bed, but he was fast enough to close the bedroom door behind him before Keith got to it.   
  
“You’re dead, as soon as I lay my hands on you!” Keith shouted at the door as he pulled hard at the doorknob. Lance was clearly holding it with everything he had on the other side, because it didn’t budge.  
“You need to catch me first!” Lance taunted him.  
Keith let go of the doorknob and pounded at the door with his fists until his hands hurt. Once the fit of rage subsided a bit, he looked at his aching hands. Lance’s hands. This gave him an idea.  
“Fine,” he said, “I can’t kill you anyway, since that’s my body you’re in. But do you know what I can do?”  
He walked over to the closet and yanked it open, grabbing at the first garment he could reach.  
  
“Oh,” he said as he took out a soft, light blue shirt with an elegant purple pattern, “that looks like a very nice shirt, bet it cost you a fortune.” He opened up a few drawers. He looked through them the night before in search of socks, and he remembered there were scissors somewhere in there. “It would be a shame if someone were to _cut it into tiny little pieces_!”  
“You wouldn’t dare!” Lance yelled back.  
“Oh, wouldn’t I?” Keith found the scissors, “I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”  
“You touch that shirt and I’m going to cut off your mullet!”  
“What?”  
“I’m going to the kitchen to get scissors!”  
“Don’t you dare!” Keith heard footsteps outside the door and he finally opened it, running to the kitchen with the shirt and scissors still in hand. He caught Lance getting another pair of scissors from one of the bottom drawers in the kitchen.   
  
“Hey, didn’t your mommy tell you not to run with scissors?” Lance asked him.  
“I don’t know, she died when I was two,” Keith spat at him, “if she ever did, I wouldn’t remember.”  
“That – oh,” Lance’s whole countenance changed. He lowered the scissors, his expression softening at once.  
“Don’t look at me like that,” Keith rolled his eyes, “I had years to get over it, I don’t need your pity.”  
“That’s - that’s not what it is,” Lance insisted, “I’m sorry, I didn't know.”  
“Shut up.”

The heat was gone. They were both breathing heavily, and Keith put down the scissors at last. He leaned back against the wall, feeling suddenly exhausted.  
“Are you hungry?” Lance asked quietly, “I can make breakfast.”  
“I need to brush my teeth.”  
“Go ahead. There are clean towels in the – “  
“I know,” Keith cut him off and got up to go to the bathroom.

When he walked back into the kitchen ten minutes later, Lance was humming something as he was frying some eggs. Keith never liked the sound of his own singing voice, but Lance made it sound strangely soft. He stood there for a moment, listening, a little stunned.  
Lance then turned around to grab a towel and yelped at the sight of Keith standing there. “Jeez, you scared me,” he said, “I’ll never get used to seeing myself across the room. Sit down.”  
Keith took a seat and waited patiently, still a little sleepy but now very aware of how hungry he was.   
“Oh hey, I want to check something,” Lance said as he checked on the eggs, “let’s see, do you like tomatoes?”  
“Um, yeah, sure,” Keith shrugged. A moment later, Lance handed him one slice of raw tomato. Keith looked up at him, confused.  
  
“Is that my breakfast?”  
“No, just… Just try it.”  
“Did you poison it?”  
Lance rolled his eyes. “Shut up and eat the damn tomato.”  
Keith sighed and placed the slice of tomato in his mouth. He chewed for a moment, then he froze. The taste was revolting. His whole body rejected that slice of tomato as if it really was poisoned. He got up and ran to the sink to spit it out.   
“What the hell did you do to it?” he asked when he finally stopped spitting every piece of tomato out of his mouth.  
“Nothing,” Lance said, “it’s just a tomato. Interesting.”  
“What the hell?”  
“I hate tomatoes,” Lance said, “I got food poisoning when I was little and I guess tomatoes were involved, since I haven’t been able to eat them since. I always thought it’s only in my head, though. Imagine my surprise when I tried to eat an olive this morning and ended up almost throwing up on Pidge’s shoes.”  
“I hate olives,” Keith said.  
“Well, I don’t,” said Lance, “the lines between what’s in our mind and what’s in our bodies are really blurry, apparently. There is also no way of knowing whether the demon did any of it on purpose. I guess we’re just going to keep finding out all sorts of things about – crap, I need to take the eggs off.”

Keith ate his breakfast alone while Lance helped himself to some leftover cookies and milk, only to find out that Keith is not very fond of milk either. When they were finished, Lance convinced him to sit down in the living room and talk.  
“All right,” he said once they were both on the couch, “do you want to start with a brief family history and general knowledge about each other or should we cover the workplace stuff first?”  
“I want to postpone talking about ghost stuff as much as possible,” Keith said.  
“Right, so your brother – “  
“I don’t want to talk about it.”  
“Keith, it’s not going to work unless you cooperate.”  
Keith stubbornly stared at the wall, refusing to budge. Lance tried to give him the silent treatment, but he didn’t have the patience. He gave up after 83 seconds of silence.  
  
“Fine,” he said, “then I’ll start. We’ll have to draw a whole family tree for you to understand – “  
“I think talking about your closest family would be enough,” Keith countered.  
“Yes,” Lance blinked, “that’s what I’m talking about. Parents, brothers, sisters, nephews and nieces, that sort of stuff.”  
“Wait, how many siblings do you have?”  
“Six.”  
Keith stared at him. “You have six siblings?”  
“And I’m right in the middle,” Lance said, “three older siblings, three younger siblings. The oldest is 31, the youngest is 12. Yeah, we’re a lot to handle.”  
Keith was surprised, but he let Lance bring a piece of paper and a pen to draw the family tree. He got confused somewhere in the middle, but Lance kept providing fun facts and intimate stories. “Marco is the one who almost married Crazy Magician Girl” and “Veronica once got in trouble for breaking some guy’s nose after he called her friend some nasty word”. Listening to Lance talk so excitedly about his family almost made Keith forget that he was a massive asshole. Almost.

They were interrupted when Lance’s phone rang. Keith didn’t react at first, not recognizing the ringtone, but Lance’s expectant gaze reminded him that he was supposed to answer. Keith looked at the phone to see that “Ethan” was calling.   
“Who’s Ethan?” he asked, almost certain that Ethan was not on the family tree.  
“Oh,” Lance waved a dismissive hand at him, “that’s just my ex. He still calls sometimes, all drunk, crying or calling me names. Just ignore him, he’s really annoying.”  
Keith rejected the call and stared at Lance, shocked. “You dated a guy?”  
“Huh?” Lance seemed taken aback by the question, “did you really miss the giant canvas in my room sporting the bi-flag colors?”  
“I – “ Keith blinked, “I thought it was a sunset.”  
“Wow, you Straights can be so oblivious sometimes, I envy you,” Lance muttered as he went back to checking whether he missed anyone on the family tree.  
  
“Did you just call me a Straight?” the question came out of Keith’s mouth a little too high pitched.  
Lance looked up again, slowly, thoroughly confused. “Are you… Are you bi too?”  
“Are you shitting me?” Keith blinked at him, “I’m the gayest gay to ever gay on this gay earth.”  
“You’re gay? No, you can’t be. I clearly remember you flirting with some girls in high school. No, no. I remember, because there was this one girl I really liked, and I was trying to impress her, but she kept gushing over how cute you were. I always wondered why Camila would choose you over me.”  
“Oh, is that why you told her that you saw me sucking dick in the parking lot?”  
“That one wasn't even – hey, I thought you said you didn’t remember me!”  
“I lied, because I wanted to annoy you. Is it really about Camila, then? I was in the closet and she found out. She also wanted a ‘gay best friend’, so we made a deal that I would hang out with her and talk about boys with her in exchange for her silence,” Keith could feel anger pooling at the pit of his stomach as the memories ignited something long forgotten inside him, “I had to shut her up because SOMEONE was spreading rumors about me, which led to me being thrown into dumpsters and being kicked in an alley after school! I was never flirting with anyone, I didn’t have time for romance, because I was too busy trying to survive in a hostile environment!” His hands were shaking at this point. He felt like he went too far, but this wasn’t even the half of it. Lance stared at him, shocked.  
  
“I had no idea. I didn’t know,” he began, but these words made Keith even more furious.  
“Like hell you didn’t,” Keith snapped, “you knew perfectly well who those guys were. You were all best buddies, weren’t you? Mister Popular. Mister Everybody-Loves-Me. You knew perfectly well what would happen if you point at the skinny Asian kid and say ‘hey, did you know that he looks at your ass sometimes?’”  
“It wasn’t like that.”  
“For years I wondered why you hated me so much. What have I ever done to you? Ah, but I guess I know now. Apparently, it’s all because you saw me smile at a girl you liked that one time. Good to know.”  
“No, Keith – “ whatever Lance was about to say, Keith was not going to hear it. He took the phone and got up to retreat into the bedroom. Once inside, he closed the door and turned the key in the lock.

* * *

 

Lance knocked, and pleaded, and apologized a dozen times. There was no answer, and Keith refused to make a sound. Eventually, Lance sat down on the floor, resting his back against the door, waiting for Keith to cool down.   
“I’ll tell you my side of the story,” he said after a while, “I know you don’t want to hear it, but that’s all I can offer other than apologies. Take it or leave it.”   
He waited for some kind of a response, but there was nothing, so he decided to just tell it anyway.  
  
“I wasn’t always that popular kid you remember from high school,” he began after a deep breath, “I was bullied too when I was younger. My older sister knew though, and she kicked some ass for me, but… I hated depending on her. I hated seeing her fight my battles, and I hated that everyone else laughed at me because I couldn’t spend a moment alone at school without shaking with fear. So, when I transferred to a new school, I promised myself that it will never happen again. I didn’t have my sister around then, and I had to learn to rely on my own skills, so I developed… Charm, I guess. Mostly, I learned to pretend to be what people wanted me to be. I fought tooth and nail to be liked by everyone. You know what being in the closet is like, so I don’t have to tell you how painful it was for me to be around those guys who made me feel like shit for having feelings I had to suppress. But I guess my whole personality at that point was a mask anyway, so what’s another drop in the ocean? Anyway, you wondered why I hated you. Well, I didn’t. Okay, it’s going to sound stupid but…” Lance paused, regretting his phrasing even before it left his mouth.

“It bothered me that you didn’t like me. I tried to talk to you – I remember that, I made a joke about your hat or whatever, and you became very defensive, and I realized that I said the wrong thing but I – I froze. It was the first time in years that my mask didn’t work for me, and you were… You were a threat. And one of those douchebags overheard, and actually said ‘I don't think he likes you’. He said that! So I acted the only way I knew how - I attacked. I said that maybe it’s just because you like me a little too much. It made him laugh, so I thought I was safe. I went with it. I made fun of you whenever I could. And you didn’t take my shit at all. You gave me hell, Keith, I’ll tell you that. For me, we were rivals. You hated me, and everyone knew that, and it only worked out in my favor since you were so disliked by everyone. Anyway, I didn’t even know those rumors spread the way they did. Keith, you have no idea how much drama I was dealing with at the time. I had my own rumors to address, I didn’t have time to listen to gossip about you. And by the way, I didn’t tell Camila that – that thing. I did talk to her about you. I asked whether there was something between the two of you, and she presumed that I was trying to confirm the rumors, which were already floating around. I know this because she literally rolled her eyes and asked ‘is this about that dick sucking rumor?’ and I guess it makes sense now, but back then I just told her that I had no idea what she was talking about. Then she decided, I guess, to defend you, so she told me that you are in fact dating and that you were the best sex she’d ever had.”  
  
Lance paused when he heard a bit of shuffling from the other side of the door.   
“She said that?” Keith’s voice was barely audible, but it was just enough for Lance to hear.  
“Yeah, I guess she really did consider you her friend,” Lance shrugged, “anyway… I didn’t know. I backed off then. There was another girl who liked me, so it didn’t bother me much. Keith… I’m sorry for what happened to you, and I’m especially sorry for the part that I played in your awful experiences. I was a bad person then. Maybe I’m still a bad person, I don’t know. I’m trying to be good now. My personality isn’t a mask anymore, I stopped giving a fuck about what people know about me. I’m still a little obsessed with people liking me,” he sighed, “which is, I guess, what brought us here in the first place. But I’m working on it. So, if I can make it up to you in any way…”

There was silence for a few moments, then Lance heard the click of the lock and moved away from the door. Keith stepped out and looked down at him, his expression blank. Lance pulled himself up and stood in front of him, apologetic but hopeful.  
“I guess it all happened a long time ago,” Keith said, “and maybe I’m being a bit childish.”  
“I think we’re both being childish,” Lance smiled warmly at him, “can we just put this whole thing behind us and move on?”  
Keith was quiet for a moment, but then he nodded. Lance opened his arms with a smile. “Hug it out?”  
“Don’t push it,” Keith turned around and returned to the living room. They talked for a while longer about trivial details like allergies and friends they should know about. They didn’t get to discuss work at all that day. Eventually, Hunk came back and Lance turned his attention to his friend until he was tired enough to leave. The weekend was coming up, however, which meant that they had two days to figure it out before they would have to go back to work. Lance promised to come back the next day for some extensive lessons, and Keith didn’t even try to pretend that he was happy about it.

Lance fell asleep that night feeling guilty. He thought, as he often did, about the happy years of high school, youthful and careless, packed with adventures. This time, however, instead of thinking about the first girl he ever kissed or thinking about all the nice things people wrote about him in the yearbook, he thought of Keith’s perspective. He replayed every interaction with him that he could remember in his head. He remembered calling Keith hurtful, mocking nicknames. He remembered shoving him in the hallway on purpose without apologizing. He remembered making Keith the butt of a joke when he talked to his friends. He never felt bad about it, because Keith was always connected in his mind to feelings of rage.   
  
Envy, he realized. There was envy there, too. Keith never cared about whether he was liked or not, and thinking that he had Camila was the icing on top. These realizations kept him awake and tormented him, and by the time he fell asleep, he was no better at going to sleep early than Keith was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry about this angst so early on? I promise there will be nice fluff in the future.  
> thank you for reading <3


	3. The Art of Being Blue Lion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance wants to teach Keith his ways, Keith is pissed off by everything, and Hunk deserves more love and respect.

Waking Keith from his sleep was not a fun task. Once again, Lance tried to wake him in a traditional way by shaking him and pulling the blanket off him, but Keith refused to cooperate.   
“You are insufferable,” Lance told him as he checked himself out in the mirror, “so annoying. How can Pidge stand you as a roommate?”  
“Get out of my room,” Keith grunted, his eyes still closed.  
“This is my room, thank you very much,” Lance told him, “ _you_ get out of _my_ bed.”  
“Why do you have to be such a pain in my ass?” Keith complained. Lance ignored him, pulling his hair up again. He grabbed, absent-mindedly, for one of his face creams and squeezed some onto his hand. Keith didn’t seem to notice, so Lance moved on to other activities he already missed doing. He sprayed some of his favorite cologne, he took out a few mint leaves to chew on and put on some of his favorite music. He then approached his closet, curiously.   
  
“What are you doing?” Keith asked, his voice groggy and irritated.  
“Do you think you’d look good in some leggings?” Lance asked, trying to find something that would fit Keith’s body. Lance was thinner than him, so he imagined that it would be hard to find something that would contain Keith’s muscular thighs.  
“I don’t know,” Keith answered, “and I don’t want to find out. Step away from the closet.”  
“Not unless you get up. Come on, Keith, don’t be lazy.”  
“I’m not lazy, I don’t want to face the world looking like this.”  
“Please, you should be thankful to face the world looking like this. Are you getting up, or should I dress your body up in a pretty, pretty dress?”  
“I’m up, you absolute – “  
“Good, see you at breakfast,” Lance slipped out of the room before Keith could finish his insult.

Once they had breakfast, Lance insisted on talking about work.  
“I have only three customers this Monday,” Lance showed him his impressively colorful planner, “usually I have four to seven clients a day, so that should be good for you. Start small. Let me give you a brief explanation about – “  
“Save it,” Keith cut him off, “I think I can handle lying to people for a living.”  
“Are you still on that?”  
“Come on,” said Keith, “it can’t be that hard. Look.” He cleared his throat and did his best to mimic Lance’s Blue Lion voice.   
  
“Mars is in retrograde,” he said, waving his hands around as if he was trying to cast a spell on him, “beware of making rushed decisions. It is better to avoid places like active volcanos and tanks filled with piranhas for a while.”   
Lance covered his face with his hands in frustration. “You’re going to ruin my career,” he said, “nobody is going to believe in Blue Lion after that.”  
“Come on, that’s exactly the kind of crap you say.”  
“I don’t even do astrology, asshole. I would never say something this stupid,” Lance told him.  
“Whatever," Keith shrugged, "I'll handle it. I’m more worried about you getting me fired on the first day of work.”  
“What? Excuse you,” Lance pointed a finger at him, “you think I can’t be a waiter?”  
“I think you’re going to see Allura and ruin my reputation as the gayest gay alive,” Keith mumbled.  
“Ooh, who’s that?”  
“My boss,” Keith said sternly, “which means that now she’s your boss, and you’re not allowed to flirt with her. Don’t even look at her. Just avoid her altogether.”  
“Oh, come on,” Lance rolled his eyes, “I’m not that hopeless around beautiful people. Wait, do you think you’re still gay though?”  
“Huh?”  
“I mean, what if that changed too, like our food preferences?”  
“You can’t compare sexuality to liking olives, Lance,” Keith told him.  
“Well, I guess we’ll just have to find out.”  
“Allura is not an option,” Keith warned him again, “if you behave yourself, I… I might consider introducing you to her once we’re back in our own bodies.”  
“Aww, you would do that for me?” Lance’s smile looked ridiculous on Keith’s face.  
“Not if you keep looking at me like that,” Keith told him.   
“Fine,” Lance said, “can we make a deal? I’ll do my best to stay away from your hot boss, and you do your best not to ruin my reputation.”  
“Fine,” Keith gave up, “teach me the art of bullshit, oh wise expert.”

 

To Keith’s great displeasure, their lesson began back at the closet. Lance insisted that Keith had to learn how to dress well before he could show his face to clients.   
“Alright,” said Lance, sitting down on his bed, “pick an outfit that you think could suit Blue Lion and put it on.”  
Keith never thought about clothes too much. He reached into the closet and pulled out the first thing his hand came upon, not even knowing whether it was a shirt or a dress. It was neither. Instead, it was a yellow skirt. Remembering that Lance had worn a skirt to their first meeting, he decided that this could be a good idea. He turned around to take off his pants, only to find Lance watching him.  
“Look away,” he said.  
“What for? It’s my body,” Lance argued.  
“I don’t care,” Keith insisted, “I don’t like you watching me. Turn around.”  
Lance rolled his eyes, but he didn’t argue. He rolled over in bed and faced the wall. After getting rid of his pants and pulling on the skirt, Keith realized that it was much shorter than he expected, barely reaching his knees. He decided to make up for it with a long sleeved white shirt and knee-high socks.   
“You can look now,” he told Lance once he was done. When Lance turned around, he yelped.  
“What the hell is that?” he asked.  
“What? It’s your clothes!”  
“You can’t wear that skirt with those socks in front of clients, that's way too sexual! I mean, do what you want in your free time but this is not appropriate for work. And why would you pair a lacy skirt with this square, masculine shirt? You look ridiculous. Take it off.”

He did, and Lance proceeded to take out different garments and explain his style using words like “aesthetic” and “wholesome”. Keith blinked at him as he tried to convince him that the outfit has to radiate harmony and calmness.   
Keith tried to assemble an outfit again, and then another one, and then one more. He kept trying, hoping to finally get Lance off his back so they could move on. But each time, Lance had some harsh critique for him. Sometimes it was "not enough skin, what are you, a nun?" and other times it was "you are a witch, not a stripper". It was either "look, I know the rainbow has a special place in your gay, gay heart, but this is way too much color" or "why are all your clothes black and white? You're not a librarian."   
Whatever Keith tried, it wasn't good enough. By the time he told Lance that he was sick and tired of this makeshift fashion show, there was a huge pile of discarded clothes on Lance's bed.  
  
Lance agreed to abandon the closet, but then they moved on to make-up, and Keith was completely lost.  
Lance gave up on using any complicated terms once Keith stared at him with his confused, completely lost expression.   
“This is for eyes,” Lance said, holding up a pencil, “this is for lips. This is for skin. You can tell by the color, right?”  
“But you used blue on your skin,” Keith argued.  
“This is typically for the eyes,” Lance raised a blue pencil, “but Blue Lion likes to paint his face with a bit of a dramatic flare, you know?”  
“Didn’t you just say that you’re going for a pure, wholesome vibe?”  
“Yes. It’s both. Try to keep up, Keith.”  
By the end of the explanation, Keith’s head hurt. Then Lance told him to try to paint his face on his own according to his instructions, but the results were disastrous. Keith was surprised by how difficult painting his face turned out to be. His hand kept shaking for some reason, which is not ideal when you’re holding a pencil pointed at your eyeball. He was convinced that mascara was created by the devil himself, and how on earth Lance ever managed to blend all of those powders so well together was beyond him.

“You’re hopeless,” Lance concluded, lying down on the carpet with despair, “you will never get it. Blue Lion is about to become a sloppy, crusty, mismatched disaster. My life is ruined!”  
“Stop being such a drama queen,” Keith sighed, “let’s take a break and focus on the restaurant for a while.”  
Lance agreed, and they switched roles.

Keith explained in as much detail as he could what Lance was about to encounter. He told him about his coworkers and Allura, about where everything was supposed to go and his responsibilities. Then he made Lance memorize the menu.

Lance wasn’t having nearly as much trouble as Keith was. He had a rather good memory, and Keith was astounded to see how quickly he got everything Keith was telling him. This was infuriating. Here was Keith, struggling to wrap his mind around the concept of using seven different brushes for your eyelids alone, and there was Lance, writing a silly little rap song about the list of desserts, all with the most annoying smile on his face.

The two of them began to get more and more frustrated with each other. Each of them wanted to focus on what mattered to him, and neither seemed to take the other’s words seriously. The jabs they took at each other weren’t playful, they were venomous and angry. Still, they tried to cover as many subjects as they could.

By the time Hunk got back home, Lance was eager to test whether they were ready to be released back into society. Hunk sat down on the couch, a bowl of spaghetti in his lap, as Lance and Keith entered the living room in an attempt to play the roles of each other. Lance lowered the hood over his head and shoved his hands deep into his pockets. He sat down in the armchair with a sour expression on his face.   
“What’s up, buddy?” Hunk asked him, digging his fork into the spaghetti.  
Lance glared back at him, his lips in a pout. “Don’t speak to me, mortal,” he said, “I’m not in the mood.”  
Hunk stifled a laugh, focusing on his food.  
“Oh, are you?” said Keith, using his hands for exaggerated emphasis, “well, do not fret. I am here.” He twirled, flailing his arms and finally jumping onto the couch to sit beside Hunk in a strange, clearly uncomfortable position.   
“What is that supposed to mean?” Lance grunted, and it was unclear whether it was a part of his Keith Act or just general displeasure.

“Oh, you know,” said Keith, pitching his voice a bit higher, “the universe revolves around me, so you have nothing to worry about. I can get all of the attention instead, and I’m going to like it!”  
“Good,” said Lance, “because I’d rather stay here, in the literal shadow, lurking like a creep and sulking in my everlasting sadness.”  
“Guys, this is getting out of hand,” Hunk commented, “you should cool down.”  
“I never cool down,” said Keith, “I’m an eternal flame, the sun you all revolve around, the brightest spark in the universe.”  
“I’m already too cool,” said Lance, “can’t you see how aloof I am? I’m the coolest. I’m so cool I’m cold. Frozen, like my emotionless heart.”  
“Yeah, that’s enough,” said Hunk, putting down his bowl, “you’re going to the Ghost Room.”  
“It’s not a – “ Lance began, but Keith interrupted him.  
“Don’t call it a Ghost Room, it might make my profession, which is based on outrageous lies and wild fantasies, seem less realistic!”  
Hunk grabbed the both of them by the ear and practically dragged them to the Ghost Room. He pulled them inside and said: “Okay, classic kindergarten strategy. I’ll let you out once you kiss and make up”. Then he closed the door.

Neither of them tried to plead, they both knew it was useless. Silently, Keith pulled one of the chairs around the table and sat down. Lance crossed the room to one of the bookcases. He picked a few books and placed them, a little angrily, on the table.  
“I’m going to go over the menu again,” he said at last, “you do some research. Tasseography and Tarot are the two most popular methods of readings, so I suggest you start with those. We don’t have to speak unless you have questions.”

Silently, Keith reached forward and opened one of the books. He didn’t ask any questions. He was determined to prove that he was the better student, all while keeping up the impression that he hated every single moment of this. He skipped through the parts of the books which provided background information, history and instructions about looking deep into one’s soul before every reading. He decided that every description of energy, concentrating on flows of any kind and meditation was useless and stupid. Instead, he looked straight at the symbols and their possible meaning, memorizing them much like he did with the menu.

He did not say a single word. Lance didn’t either. They each concentrated on their own material, like a couple of students from different majors studying intensely before the finals. Keith only looked up once Lance got up from his seat to approach the door.

“What are you doing?” Keith asked him.  
“Going home,” Lance said, “I don’t see why I need to be here if you refuse to listen to me.”  
“Hunk wouldn’t let you out.”  
“The door isn’t locked,” Lance informed him, “and yes, he would. He's an angel. Be nice to him, you hear me?”  
“I am nice to him.”  
“No, you act like a dick,” Lance walked back to the table to point an accusing finger at him, “he’s trying his best to make you feel welcome. Show him some appreciation.”  
“Fine.”  
“I’m serious,” Lance took another step forward, “he is one of the best things that ever happened to me. He’s my buddy, but also my brother, and also both of my parents, and somehow my son, too.”  
“Sounds like a very complicated family situation.”  
“Yes,” Lance said, a little too forcefully, “and you’re not going to screw this up. Or I’ll – I’ll punch you.”  
Keith couldn’t hold back the laugh that escaped his throat, and even to his own ears it sounded a little too mean. “You’ll punch me?”  
“What’s so funny? I can totally punch you. I have these strong hands now, and I’m not afraid to use them, because they aren’t mine in the first place.”  
“You’ll never dare to ruin this face,” said Keith, pointing at his face with the most serious expression, “no matter whose hands you’re using.”  
“I will, for Hunk!”  
“Relax, okay? I’ll be nice to Hunk.”  
“You better be!” Lance still seemed fired up, as if he truly intended to punch Keith in the face at any given moment.

But Keith ignored him, simply looking back down at the book in front of him. Lance then opened the door and walked right out. A few moments later, Hunk’s head popped in through the door. “Are you sure you’re okay, buddy?”  
Keith was about to shrug in silence, but he realized that Hunk might need more reassurance than that. He put down the book and looked up at him.  
“This is a nightmare,” he said, honestly, “but I’m as okay as I can be under the circumstances. Thank you, Hunk.”  
“No problem,” Hunk smiled, “let me know if you need anything.”  
“Sure thing.”

But he didn’t need anything. In fact, he gave up on the book soon after and went to bed.

The next day, Lance didn’t show up. With nobody to disturb him or force him out of bed, Keith stayed in it for the better part of the day. When he finally managed to get up, Hunk was already back from work and eyeing him with worry.

“Have you eaten anything today?” Hunk asked him.  
“I’m not hungry,” Keith lied. He didn’t think he could stomach having an entire meal with Hunk.  
“I can bring some food to your room,” Hunk suggested, “just don’t tell Lance I did this, he’d kill me.”  
“You don’t have to – “  
“Go take a shower, Keith,” Hunk’s words were too forceful to be a mere suggestion, “you haven’t showered since you switched bodies about three days ago.”

Keith could feel his face burning with shame. He tried his best to stay clean in some other way – washing his hair in the sink, using more deodorant than was needed. But Hunk was right, he desperately needed a shower, and the mere thought made him sick to his stomach.  
“I’ll make you something to eat,” Hunk didn’t wait for a reply, “Lance said you switched taste buds as well, right? So I don’t have to question you about food preferences. Now, go.”

Keith felt as if he was seven years old, being scolded by his father. Still, there was an undeniable tone of affection behind Hunk’s words, and it made him feel slightly better about this. Nauseous and shaking, Keith walked into the bathroom.

It wasn’t as bad as he expected it to be. By the time Keith stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist, he wondered why this seemed so unbearable to him in the first place. It was such a simple task – taking a shower, washing your own body – why did this incredibly mundane task filled his heart with fear? But then he caught a glimpse of his naked torso in the mirror and something tightened in the pit of his stomach. Yes, this was nothing but a mundane task that he had to perform. Yes, there was nothing sexual about it. And yet, seeing Lance’s body this way felt like an invasion of his privacy. Even worse was the thought that Lance was in his own house, facing the same problem in his own body. Knowing Lance, he probably didn’t care one bit about any of this. He probably didn’t spare a single thought to this, and he probably treated it as any other normal person would. And yet, Keith was riddled with anxiety and there was nothing he could do about it. He pulled his clothes on as quickly as he could and returned to his room to find a light breakfast on his desk with a glass of orange juice and a note from Hunk.

“Who said you can’t have breakfast at 5pm? Eat. Food is your friend,” said the note.   
Keith ate his food and remained in his room for a while longer. The book on tasseography waited for him on the desk, and his stomach filled with dread again. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, he was undoubtedly worried about performing as Lance the following day. His anxiety kept whispering in his ear that nobody would ever believe him and that he was about to make a fool of himself. The logical solution, of course, would be to open the book and study as much as he could before the time came. Anxiety, however, was by no means logical, and just the thought of opening that book made Keith want to crawl back into bed. Instead, he decided to do what seemed like the lesser of two evils: go socialize with Hunk.

Hunk was in the living room, the TV on in the background while he sat in the armchair, looking at some papers. Keith sat quietly on the couch.  
“Did you eat the food?” Hunk asked him without looking up.  
“Yeah,” said Keith, “uh, thank you for that. It was very kind of you. And the food was… Fantastic.”  
“No problem, I’m always happy to help.”  
There was a silence then, and while it wasn’t exactly uncomfortable, Keith felt guilty about it.  
“What – um, what are you doing there?” he asked.  
“Pidge asked me to look at some of their calculations,” Hunk replied, “they’re having some trouble with their project. I think I’ll go over there tomorrow to help.”  
“I thought they were about to finish,” Keith said.  
“Far from it. This is a lot more complicated than they expected. You see – “ Hunk then dived right into some long science-y speech, filled with terms that went right over Keith’s head. Keith and Pidge had been friends for a long time, and he knew certain things about them. He knew that they loved this science shit, and he knew that they were working on some sort of complicated robot thing, and he knew that they were working with some big, important, Science People. He also knew that Hunk was knowledgeable in their field of study, though they weren’t working together. However, that was where Keith’s understanding of their professional life ended. He had no idea what that specific scientific field was called, or what kind of robot thing they were building, or how on earth they even knew Hunk in the first place. And he was not about to start asking.

“Sounds cool,” he said when Hunk finished articulating his thoughts on the matter, “so you think you can help?”  
“I don’t know,” Hunk shrugged, “I’m still learning this stuff, Pidge is more advanced than me. But I might be able to offer a fresh perspective, you know? That’s what they’re hoping for. Don’t let me bore you to death, though. Do you want to watch a movie?”  
Keith wanted to say that Hunk was not boring him to death. He wanted to apologize for his behavior, to thank him for his hospitality, to offer some kind or helpful words. But he didn’t. Instead, he let Hunk show him their collection of DVDs, and since he hadn’t seen most of those movies, he let Hunk choose a good movie for him.

The time went by with no progress on Keith’s part. He expected Hunk to do more socializing, but Hunk was either too busy with Pidge’s project, or considerate enough to remain quiet. When the first movie was over, he watched another one. And then another one. Eventually, Hunk went to his room and Keith had to turn off the TV. He stayed up longer, unable to go to bed since he overslept so spectacularly the night before. He was very aware of the books waiting for him in his room, but he refused to answer their call. Eventually, he decided to go for a compromise.

Reluctantly, he walked into the Ghost Room. Without Lance in it, the room felt different. On his own, he now had the freedom to explore. He opened all the cupboards and drawers and read the titles of every book on the shelves. He touched some of the glowing artifacts and inspected some of the strange, dust covered potions. He found herbs and other ingredients, each stranger than the last, each convincing him further that Lance was a complete lunatic to believe in any of this.

Despite his acute reluctance to learn more about the subject, he found himself strangely charmed by the room. Quietly, he turned on the music Lance was using for his sessions. The soft sounds of a harp filled the room with the same kind of atmosphere he felt when he first stepped in there. Keith walked back to the shelves and examined the rest of the books. They were all more or less the same, but then Keith’s eyes stumbled upon a particular unmarked book on top of the shelf. It seemed different than the others – thicker, darker, older. He wasn’t tall enough to reach it, which seemed strange to him, because height was one of the major perks of being in Lance’s body. It was especially strange since Lance, presumably, was the one to personally place every single item in this room. Why would Lance place something out of his own reach?

Now fueled with curiosity, Keith pulled one of the chairs from the center of the room. He moved it closer to the shelf and climbed on top of it. The moment he reached for the book, however, it flew off the shelf and landed on top of the bookcase to his left. Keith froze with surprise. “What the hell was that?” he whispered. For a moment, his body froze with dread. He remembered being paralyzed by unnatural forces when Lance summoned that demon, and this felt somewhat similar. The room felt suddenly colder, too, and Keith jumped off the chair, determined to get as far away from that cursed room as was physically possible. It was the logical thing to do, his instincts were screaming at him that he was in great danger. Anyone else would most likely run away, but Keith was one stubborn, salty idiot. Instead of turning to the door, he dragged the chair across the floor and over to the bookcase. He climbed on top of it again, but the moment he reached for the book, it flew off once more, landing on the floor this time. Keith jumped off the chair and followed the book to the corner of the room, where it had nowhere else to go. He felt fully awake at this point, his heart racing in his chest and the adrenaline making everything around him seem sharper and louder somehow. He approached the books like a predator cornering its prey, knees bent, arms outstretched, ready for it to leap once again at any given moment.

And it did, escaping at the very last moment, shooting with great force right between his legs. “Oh, come on!” Keith let out in frustration. This chase went on for a while longer, but every time Keith thought he was about to catch it at last, the book managed to get away from him. Eventually he got tired of this game. He could not outsmart this cursed book, and he decided to give up. When he got back to his room, he considered texting Lance to ask about it. But it was three in the morning, and Lance was most likely asleep, and Keith didn’t want to admit that he went into the Ghost Room on his own. He grabbed Lance’s laptop and climbed into bed instead, passing the time with silly youtube videos until he could get tired enough to fall asleep.


	4. You're a Witch Now, Keith

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the first day of work and the boys soon realize how wrong they both were.

Lance’s day started way earlier than normally. He never booked clients before 11am because he needed his beauty sleep. But Altea, the restaurant Keith worked at, opened at 9am and demanded its workers to be there at least thirty minutes before the opening time. Not only that, but Keith’s transportation turned out to be a motorcycle, and Lance refused to even look at that Death Machine, so he had to take a bus. Figuring out the proper route and calculating the time it would take for him to get there forced Lance to wake up at 6 in the morning. And 6 in the morning, as he quickly discovered, was a special invention by the devil designed to torture innocent souls on earth in an attempt to turn them into vicious murderers and send them to hell. That was the only explanation for the agony he felt as he attempted to brush his teeth with his eyes glued shut by the painful need for sleep.

“Morning, Sunshine,” Pidge greeted him in the kitchen. How on earth they had the audacity to smile at such an ungodly hour was a mystery, but they offered him a cup of coffee.  
“I don’t drink coffee,” Lance grunted at them.  
“You do now, _Keith_ ,” they said, “Keith drinks his coffee in the most disgusting way possible. Black and bitter.”  
“Like his soul,” Lance remarked as he accepted the cup and sipped the beverage he used to despise. He would never get used to the feeling of knowing that something is disgusting yet not being physically revolted by it.   
“Why are you up so early, anyway?” Pidge asked, “Keith would never wake up before seven.”  
“Because bus,” Lance said, too sleepy to form coherent sentences, “and because making this,” he pointed at his face, “presentable takes a lot of time and hard work.”  
“Splashing your face with water and running a hand through your hair takes a lot of time and hard work?”  
“Just because I’m wearing his tired face doesn’t mean I have to have his disgusting habits,” Lance rubbed his eyes, “I’ll teach him to take care of his skin whether he likes it or not.”   
“I should’ve bet Hunk that one of you is going to kill the other before this is over,” Pidge muttered into their coffee.

Lance resolved to keep Keith’s hair tied back, since that was the most tolerable way to present it. He used some of the creams he managed to sneak into his bag back at his place. He suspected that Keith had never spent as much time picking his outfit as he did that morning. To his surprise, Keith did have a few interesting articles of clothing in his closet, he just chose to look boring. The ripped black jeans and leather jacket were far from Lance’s taste, but it suited Keith’s body in a way he didn’t expect. He was tempted to use some black eyeliner too, but he decided that it might be a little too out of character for Keith, and he was only going to work anyway.

Altea turned out to be a rather small restaurant, and the first person Lance met there was a young waitress named Shay, who had a sweet smile and a warm greeting for him. She asked him why he didn’t have his motorcycle, and Lance had to lie that it was broken (“there is a problem with the, uh, pipe. Engine. The pipe in the engine”) and he had to get it fixed. Then, at 8:45 on the dot, Lance’s boss came in and left him weak in the knees. Allura was a tall, beautiful goddess who was most likely able to kill a man with a single look, and Lance was immediately convinced that his theory about sexuality being the same as food preference was utter garbage, because he was clearly in love.

* * *

 

Keith’s day, meanwhile, was supposed to start a lot later. Anxiety had other plans, however, so he found himself wide awake at 8AM, despite barely having any sleep that night. Hunk was just about to leave when he walked into the kitchen, but he informed Keith that he made some breakfast for him and he wished him a wonderful day. Hunk truly was an angel in human form, and Keith felt guilty once again for not putting more effort into getting to know him. He convinced himself that he will try to talk to him later that day, but he had a more pressing task at hand. It was time to dress up as “Blue Lion”.

Lance’s closet was nothing short of a whole new world, and Keith was quickly overwhelmed by it despite the desperate attempts at Fashion Lessons they had a few days before. He remembered Lance’s speech on wholesome aesthetics, and he thought that wearing a skirt would be a safe bet. Except Lance had a whole lot of them, and Keith still had no idea what kind of reasoning was behind choosing a specific one, so he just reached for the first one he noticed. It was long and covered with white flowers. Keith took a long, deep breath before finally getting out of his sweats and pulling it on. There was a surprising sense of freedom in it, which he would never admit around Lance, but now that he was all alone he managed to enjoy. He chose a simple white T shirt to go with it and a random red and purple shawl. He had no idea whether the colors worked together, but there were flowers on the shawl so he figured it was good enough. The jewelry was easier to choose, he simply put on as many bracelets and rings as he could fit on his hands. For his face, Keith was certain that he was not going to use any of the various pencils and brushes in Lance’s make-up kit anywhere near his eyes, not after the gruesome experiences he already had with them. He completely dismissed everything Lance attempted to teach him about make-up, remembering only that the blue swirls were his trademark of sorts. He picked up a blue pencil and traced some swirly shapes onto the side of his face. It looked terrible. His hand was shaking and the lines ended up too jagged and square-ish. It was the best he could do, however, so he spent the rest of his time finally picking up the books he was supposed to read and going through all the different symbols of tea leaves again.

* * *

 

Lance had to try very hard to restrain himself. Allura was quick to make sure that everyone was doing their job and there was no time for chitchat, but Lance couldn’t help but think about a thousand pick-up lines he could use every time she passed him by. Shay seemed to notice his staring, because she said “is there some weird tension between Allura and you? You keep staring at her.”  
“Um, no,” Lance said quickly, “it’s, uh… I was just thinking that I might want to set her up with my friend.”  
“Your friend?” Shay blinked.  
Her look was strangely surprised, and Lance felt as if he already said something wrong. “Yeah, why?”  
“It’s just…” Shay sighed, “I’m sorry, but are you really that blind? Keith, everyone knows that your brother is head over heels for her. Maybe you should focus on that.”  
“Shiro?” Lance asked. He had never even seen Shiro before, and he wondered whether Keith knew anything about this.  
“Yes, Shiro, unless you have some other brother I don’t know about,” said Shay, “didn’t you see how he was blushing last week when she offered him a free coffee while he was waiting for you? It was precious.”  
“I haven’t noticed,” Lance shrugged, “but do you think she likes him too?”  
“Let’s just say I’ve never heard Allura offer anyone else a free coffee before,” said Shay with a very telling smile. The conversation had to end there since there were customers to serve. Even though Lance knew the menu quite well by then, he was still a rather lousy waiter. His charm made it less horrible, but he kept messing up and Allura noticed.

After his second broken glass, she pulled him aside to talk. “I’ve never seen you mess up so much in such a short time,” she told him, “two broken glasses, a spilled coffee, and I don’t even want to start with how many orders you’ve messed up so far. What’s wrong with you, Keith?”  
Lance was completely flustered and just having her talk to him made him feel as if his face was melting, but he made up some lie about not having his head in the right place and apologized a dozen times. She let him leave work early, and luckily for Lance she seemed more worried than angry.

* * *

 

Keith’s first customer of the day was an old lady who seemed very sweet. He wasn’t sure what to say once they were seated in the Ghost Room, but she didn’t give him a chance to feel awkward, since she already had her question prepared. She took out a picture of her pregnant daughter and told him that she would like to know the baby’s sex. Keith had no idea how to answer such a specific question. Tea leaves seemed improbable and tarot cards felt too vague, so he settled on using the crystal ball. It was easier to pretend with a crystal ball, he decided. Still, he couldn’t just look at it for five seconds and pretend to get the answer from that, he felt like he owed that poor woman more than that. So he lit some candles, studied the picture she provided him with, and made her hold some strange stick he found on a shelf with some bells attached to it.

“Please shake the stick while I concentrate,” he told her as he moved the crystal ball closer to himself, “and try to… Send me your energy through it.”   
Even the woman, who clearly had to be a believer to come to a witch named “Blue Lion”, seemed to have some suspicion about that. Keith felt like he owed it to her to really try. He stared at that crystal ball very intensely, hoping that something might happen. Nothing happened. Just as he expected, this was all incredibly stupid and it did not work. He stared at this crystal ball for a while, and when the woman had to move the stick to her left hand because her other hand was getting tired, he decided to just make a guess.

“Oh! Oh, here, I see it!” he exclaimed, his eyes still glued to the ball.  
“You do? What is it then?” the woman asked.  
“Hmm… Yes, it’s quite clear. You’re going to have a granddaughter.”  
The woman seemed disappointed. “Another girl? Oh, it can’t be. Are you sure?”  
Keith felt like he made the wrong decision, but he couldn’t go back now.  
“Yes, I’m afraid the crystal ball never lies,” he said, “it’s going to be another girl.”  
The woman walked away disappointed, and Keith couldn’t believe that Lance was taking so much money from people to do that.

The next customer, who came right after the old lady, was a middle aged woman. When Keith said “follow me into the Ghost Room” he winced, feeling like a fool and suddenly realizing why Lance hated it so much. “The Ghost Room?” she asked him, her eyebrows raised comically high. “The – uh, the workroom, is what I meant,” Keith said, but this was already a disaster. The woman wanted to know about the future of her children. Keith had no idea how to see the future for someone who isn’t present, so he decided to use tarot cards. It was a bad move. He stumbled over his own words as he attempted to interpret the cards, he kept contradicting himself and he wasn’t making any sense. Thankfully, he managed to guess one small detail correctly and the woman latched onto that, encouraging him to talk more about how her son will become a successful author. It was a narrow escape, but the woman seemed to leave with a smile on her face.

Keith went out for lunch then, since he had some time before his last customer for the day. He already felt completely drained by then, and he hadn’t even done that much work. The social interaction was exhausting to him, and he had to admit that even if Lance truly was a fraud, that was not an easy job.

He was surprised to find out that his last customer was a teenage girl. She looked about 16, and she seemed very sad. The girl explained that her grandmother passed away recently, and that she kept appearing in her dreams, trying to tell her something. Keith felt sick to his stomach. Lying to the first two women felt awful, but this was a whole new level of terrible. That girl was vulnerable and in distress. She needed help, not deception. Still, there was nothing for Keith to do other than comply.

He took out the Ouija board and lit some candles. Then he took the girl by the hands and asked her to concentrate and think about her grandmother. A minute went by in complete silence, then Keith asked “is there anyone here with us?”  
Right when he said it, something appeared in the air behind the girl. Keith jumped in his seat, startled, staring at the figure of the old woman in front of him.  
“What’s wrong?” the girl asked, turning around. She didn’t seem to see the figure, because she turned back to him, confused.  
“It’s – uh – she’s here,” said Keith, clearly freaked out by this, “I think it’s her, anyway. Um. Hello?” he addressed the old lady. She smiled at him kindly and nodded.

“Yes, pretty sure it’s her,” Keith told the girl.  
“Grandma?” the girl looked up. The figure of the old woman came closer and placed her hand on the girl’s shoulder. She shivered at the touch.  
“She’s touching you,” Keith whispered.  
“Yes,” the girl seemed a bit pale in the face, “I can feel it. Um, Grandma… Is there something you want to tell me?”  
The ghost turned to look at Keith then. “Tell her that her little brother needs her right now,” the figure said. Keith felt goosebumps all over his skin at the sound of her voice. She wasn’t whispering, but it felt eerily breathy, like a whisper.   
Keith repeated the words to the girl.

“Caleb? What’s wrong with Caleb?” the girl asked, worried.  
“Tell her that he feels very alone. He cries every night, and he thinks that nobody understands him. He is in despair, but he is too scared to ask for help.” The ghost spoke tenderly, with affection. Keith repeated her words, and the girl started to cry.  
“I’ve been so busy with my own problems,” she said, “I didn’t even notice that he needed me.”   
Keith offered her a tissue, but he felt as if he was invading a very personal situation, and he was uncomfortable with it. The ghost kept telling him encouraging things for him to tell the girl, and he passed on every single word. By the time they were finished and the ghost was gone, the girl seemed as if a huge weight was lifted off her shoulders. She thanked him passionately, warmly, and even tipped him for his wonderful work. Keith was thoroughly shaken by that experience.

* * *

 

By the end of the evening, Lance decided to call Keith and ask for some advice, since he was apparently so shit at being a waiter. When Keith answered his phone, however, he said something Lance was not expecting.  
“I was wrong,” he told him instead of a normal ‘hello’, “ghosts are real and your job is a lot harder than I expected. I hope you’re happy.”  
Lance was happy. He smiled, smug with proving Keith wrong, and the I-Told-You-So danced on the tip of his tongue. Then he remembered that he called because he was wrong about Keith’s job too, so he decided against it.  
“Being a waiter isn’t a piece of cake either,” he admitted, “Allura let me leave early and I still feel as if I’ve been working nonstop since 1928. I haven’t slept in ages. My nails – your nails, which are terrible to begin with – look like they belong to a peasant in a time before manicure was even a word.”  
“I guess we need to talk more about work then,” Keith concluded.

“Finally. If you weren’t so stubborn – you know what, never mind. I can come by later,” Lance said, “or we can wait for the weekend again. Do you work on weekends?”  
“Not this week, thankfully,” Keith told him, “sometimes I do.”  
“When do you sleep?”  
“What is that word? I’m not familiar with it.”  
Lance snorted. “Figured.”  
“Come by tomorrow to teach me about ghosts and crystal balls?”  
“Oh god,” Lance was horrified, “please don’t tell me you tried to use a crystal ball.”  
“Why not?”  
“Well, for starters, if you tried the one on the table, that’s not even for divination. That’s for décor, you doofus. It is a piece of glass, it has batteries and it lights up. The real ones are in the cupboard. Not only that, but you’re an amateur, there’s no way you’d be able to see something in there on your first try.”

“Yeah, those are things you can teach me tomorrow then.”  
“Did you know that your brother has a crush on Allura?” Lance asked. He figured that Keith must be oblivious to that, since he offered to introduce him to Allura once they switch back. He realized, too, that telling Keith about it would destroy every chance he might have with her, but this felt like a necessary sacrifice.  
“What? No he doesn’t.”  
“Apparently, he does,” Lance sighged, “Shay told me that today. Isn’t she a total sweetheart, by the way? A perfect match for Hunk, I’m thinking.”  
“Oh crap, Hunk,” Keith muttered, barely audible.  
“What? What have you done to him?”  
“Nothing,” Keith sounded offended, “why would I do something to him? Relax, I just thought I should talk to him tonight. Be more friendly with him.”  
“Yes, yes, do that,” Lance agreed, “Pidge and I are doing great, by the way.”  
“Well why don’t you marry them then,” said Keith dryly, “whatever, get here as early as you can tomorrow, we have a lot to cover.”

* * *

 

Once Keith hung up, he made his way to the living room, where Hunk was knitting. He sat down on the couch, expecting Hunk to say something, but he was quiet. 

“What are you knitting?” he asked in an attempt to start a conversation.  
“I’m attempting a sweater,” Hunk told him, “I’ve never tried it before. I’ve only done scarves and socks.”  
“Oh, that’s nice,” said Keith, “good luck.”  
“Thanks.”  
They were quiet again, and the awkwardness in the silence was killing Keith.

“I’m sorry about my behavior,” he said at last, “I know you’re a very nice person and I’m really grateful for your help, I don’t mean to be rude to you.”  
Hunk stopped knitting and looked up. “Relax, buddy,” he said, “I know. It’s okay. I know you get anxious sometimes and I can see that you need space. I understand.”  
“Oh,” Keith blinked at him, “I just thought… I don’t know, you don’t deserve to be stuck with me here. I bet you miss Lance.”  
“Look,” Hunk smiled at him with his usual, warm smile, “Lance is my best friend, so of course I miss him. I guess it took me a while to figure out that what you need is drastically different from what Lance needs. You know, he’s more the kind of guy who likes to talk things out, to spend time with other people at the end of the day… He thrives when he’s in the spotlight. For you, attention is not a good thing. You shy away from it, being around people makes you tired, and you put some walls up when you’re stressed. It’s fine, I understand that, and I definitely don’t take offense.”  
Keith was quiet for a moment. He wanted to argue, to say that it was not proper of him, but Hunk was completely right and it was better to just accept it. “Thank you,” he said.  
“Do you want to watch another movie or something? We don’t have to talk,” Hunk suggested. They did just that.  
When that movie ended, they decided to watch another one. Ten minutes into the second movie, Keith’s phone rang. It was Lance again.

“What?” Keith answered, back in his bedroom so he wouldn’t disturb Hunk.  
“Promise not to kill me,” were Lance’s first words. Keith could hear the panic in his voice.  
“What have you done?”  
There was a pause. Lance took a deep breath, then he said “I may have done something stupid.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys like this. I know the chapters are kind of short, but hopefully the fact that I'm posting them so soon helps. Thank you for reading <3


	5. Time to Meet The Brother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance learns that meddling in family matters never goes well, there's a nice bonding moment over a cool book, and Coran is the nice ghost uncle we all need in our lives.

Lance had to spend the evening on his own, because Pidge had to work on their project at the lab. He used the time to explore their apartment, to check under Keith’s bed, go through the books on their shelves and the video games in the living room, and he ended up cleaning the kitchen since it was a little too filthy for him. He was halfway through scrubbing the floor when the doorbell rang.

Lance opened the door without thinking, and the unfamiliar man standing there surprised him. He was undeniably attractive. Lance was suddenly very aware of the rubber gloves on his hands, his wet knees and his messy hair. “Hello,” he said, “how may I help you?”  
“Stop dicking around,” said the man as he pushed past him, not waiting for an invitation.   
Lance went through the possibilities in his head as he closed the door. It could be one of Pidge’s coworkers, but it would make no sense for him to show up while Pidge was away. Keith had no friends who would just show up like this. It had to be his brother. Lance felt immediately guilty for being attracted to him.

“Are you… Cleaning?” Shiro asked when he noticed the wet floor in the kitchen.  
“Yes,” said Lance, “I was bored.”  
“You were bored,” Shiro repeated, “so you decided to clean? Okay, come here,” he stepped closer and placed a hand on Lance’s forehead. Lance blinked at him, frozen and confused.  
“It doesn’t seem like you have a fever,” said Shiro thoughtfully as he moved his hand away, “what the hell is wrong with you?”  
“Nothing, I’m just…” Lance then remembered what he told Allura earlier that day, and he thought it might work on Shiro as well. “My head’s not in the right place lately, I guess. I don’t know what this is.”  
There was silence for a few moments, but then Shiro smiled at him. “I think I know what this is.”  
This didn’t seem like a good thing.

“It’s that date you’ve had, isn’t it?” Shiro punched him playfully on the shoulder. Lance expected it to hurt. It didn’t. He was yet to get used to the fact that Keith was fucking ripped.   
“Date? Oh,” Lance remembered the blatant lie about his date, which was supposed to take place the previous day, “that. Yes, you know what? Now that you say it, I guess I just can’t stop thinking about that date.”  
“Really?” Shiro seemed surprised, “do you want to… Talk about it?”  
Keith hadn’t told him enough about his relationship with his brother, but Shiro’s encouragement and curiosity led him to believe that they were very close and could talk about anything.  
“Yeah, okay,” Lance said, because he had to avoid looking suspicious, “it’s, uh… I met this…” he almost said girl. Then he remembered that it would be very unlikely. “Guy. And he’s…” he tried to think of a guy Keith would date, but he had no idea what Keith was looking for in guys anyway, so he just described the only perfect guy he knew. Himself.

“He’s so tall and handsome, oh, you have no idea. And he’s funny… He actually makes me laugh, you know? He’s talented, too. I don’t think I’ve ever met someone this talented.”  
“Oh?” Shiro was beaming with joy, “what does he do? An artist?”  
“Not quite,” Lance said, “although I heard he can be pretty handy with a brush. He’s, um… He’s a witch.”  
“A witch?”  
“Yes, yes, I know,” Lance winced when he remembered that Keith was the most skeptical person on the planet, “you know that I think it’s all bullshit. But somehow, he managed to convince me otherwise.”  
“Keith,” Shiro placed a heavy hand on his shoulder, “if this guy actually made you believe in magic, you marry that guy. You hear me?”  
Lance let out a sharp, nervous laugh. “It’s a bit too soon for that, Shiro,” he said, picturing himself meeting Keith at the altar, the most bizarre image that had ever entered his mind, “but you know what, now that we’re having this conversation… What’s up with you and Allura?”

Shiro’s whole face turned red. He looked as if Lance just caught him doing something incredibly embarrassing, but it only encouraged him to try harder. “Ha, Shay was right then,” he said, “you totally like her.”  
“What? No I don’t,” Shiro said at once, as if he was a five year old boy with a crush, “I mean I do, but in a normal way. I mean, she’s a very nice woman, she’s very kind-“  
“Relax, will you?” Lance chuckled, “you like her, it’s pretty obvious. I think she likes you too.”  
“What? How do you know? Did she tell you anything? Tell me exactly what she said, word for word.” Shiro’s innocent pleading was adorable.  
“It’s just as obvious as you liking her,” Lance shrugged, “you should ask her out.”

This was painful. Secretly, Lance still hoped that Shiro would decide that Allura wasn’t the right choice for him. He wanted to postpone this just until he was back in his own body, just until he had the chance to properly flirt with her. One look at Shiro’s Lost Puppy face, however, and Lance was ready to put those thoughts aside. His heart was too weak in the face of true love.  
“I can’t ask her out,” Shiro said, “we barely said eleven words to each other.”  
“Then ask her out in a platonic, friendly kind of way. Maybe we can do a little get together with some people at work and I can bring you along. Ooh, maybe we can bring Shay and Hunk – “ Lance paused, “he’s my… My date’s roommate. I think they would get along.”

“What if,” Shiro suggested, “you invite Shay, along with your date and his roommate, so that there will be an even number of us and I’d be able to get her to talk to me?”  
Lance smiled, “that’s a great idea, Shiro! See? You can totally do it.”  
“Raincheck in a few weeks? You know I’ll be away for a while.”  
“Sure,” Lance shrugged, “hit me up when you want to make this happen. Hurry, though, Allura probably has a whole legion of guys dying to date her.”  
“Stop making it worse,” Shiro punched him lightly again, but his spirits were visibly elevated now, “what’s your date’s name, anyway? You barely gave me any details.”  
_Fuck_ , Lance thought. There was no way out of it now. “Uh, he… His name is Lance.”

Fake name. He could’ve used a fake name. This thought came into his mind exactly half a second too late. He was going to regret this decision.  
“Cool,” Shiro smiled, “well, I have to go. I just came by to make sure you’re okay, you kind of made me worried there a few days ago on the phone.”  
Lance faked a laugh and tried to pretend as if everything was completely fine, but the moment he closed the door behind Shiro, he was seized with panic.

Lance had just invited himself as Keith’s date to a group hang with his brother. Keith was going to kill him. For a brief moment he considered hiding this from Keith and letting him deal with it later. Then he thought that Keith would definitely stab him to death if he did that, so he grabbed his phone and called him.   
“What?” Keith answered, sounding surprisingly calm.   
“Promise not to kill me,” Lance pleaded, his heart pounding.  
“What have you done?”  
Lance took a deep breath, then he said: “I may have done something stupid.”  
“What have you done, Lance?” Keith sounded more worried than angry.  
“I may have told your brother that your date was with a witch named Lance,” he admitted, “which is technically true, if you think about it.”  
“What? Why would you – “  
“That’s not all,” Lance interrupted, “I also kind of invited us all to a triple date with Hunk and Shay, who have no idea about this yet, and Shiro and Allura.”  
“You did WHAT?”  
“Listen, your brother really likes her, and she clearly likes him too, but he’s too nervous to talk to her about it so it’d be easier if we just hang out together. Don’t worry, we still have time. Hopefully, we’ll be back in our own bodies by then.”  
“Don’t tell me not to worry, you just told my brother that I’m dating you – oh god, why would you even talk to him about this? We never talk about this. Did you straight up asked him about Allura? Oh god, what have you done…”  
“Keith, calm down, Jeez,” said Lance, “it’s going to be all right. We can always say that we went on one date and decided to just be friends, right? And if that date becomes too much like a real date, we can just leave early so the lovebirds can spend some time alone. It’s going to be okay.”

Lance managed to calm him down a little, but their conversation did not end well. Lance cursed himself for ever meddling in family matters.

* * *

 

Keith woke up earlier the next day to read more of the books he skipped before. This time, however, he went back to the introduction and read the parts that included spiritual instructions. He tried, despite his skepticism, to take it at face value and keep an open mind. He had four customers that day, and it went in the same disastrous manner as it did the day before. Keith was worried that Lance was completely right about him ruining his reputation forever. Once the last customer was gone, Keith texted Lance to know when he would come by.

“What the hell is on your face?” Lance asked instead of greeting him when he finally showed up.  
“That’s the swirling stuff you do with make-up,” Keith said, suddenly very aware and ashamed of his terrible skills.  
“Those aren’t swirls. I don’t know what on Earth this is, but it’s… Bad. Don’t do that. It’s better to use no make-up at all than terrible make-up.”

Keith ignored that and simply led him into the Ghost Room. Lance dropped all attempts at small talk once they were inside. He went straight into work. Keith was surprised by how seriously he approached his profession. Lance listed all of his methods and what he used them for. When Keith told him about the old lady who asked about the sex of an unborn baby, Lance shook his head at him. “Technically, you could use tarot for that, but… I rarely get such specific answers,” he explained, “there’s a trick to that. A trick, not a lie. First of all, you need to connect with your client before you start. Read their energy. Know a little about them. You say that lady was disappointed to find out it’s going to be a girl, right? Well, if you did a reading – in any method, basically – and found some sign of disappointment somewhere near an addition to the family, you’d know it’s a girl. If it was a boy, you’d see something more happy around it, like success or luck. You can’t count on the cards, or the leaves, or the mist in the crystal to chew the food for you to swallow. It provides you with clues, but you’re the detective piecing them together. That’s what you’re here for, Keith. You’re a bridge, an interpreter, a psychologist, a detective and a messenger all rolled into one.”

This little speech inspired Keith more than he was willing to admit. When he thought about the way that girl reacted to talking to her dead grandmother, it made him realize how important this was. But when he heard Lance talk about his methods, he realized how important it was not only to the clients, but to Lance himself. Secretly, he wanted to see what Lance saw. He wanted to look into a crystal ball and see mist. He wanted to put two and two together to make a coherent reading. But despite spending hours with Lance, his progress was almost nonexistent.

“Alright,” said Lance when they came back from dinner, “I’m going to show you something that I never show anyone, ever.”  
“Are you talking about – “  
“I am not talking about my dick,” Lance pointed an accusing finger at him.  
“I was going to say diary, but if you say so...”  
They looked at each other for a moment, wondering whether they really just shared a quick joke, even if it wasn’t really funny.

“I’m talking about my grimoire,” Lance climbed onto a chair to access the top of the shelf, but when he reached for it, it wasn’t there. “Um,” he said, “where the hell is my grimoire?”   
“Are you talking about the unmarked book that was on top of the shelf?” Keith asked, “oh, yeah, it ran away from me. It’s on the floor in the corner, right there. I covered it with some fabric so that customers wouldn’t ask questions.”  
“I’m sorry, it ran away from you?”  
“Yes,” Keith shrugged, “I tried to take a closer look when I went through some of the books, but it just… Flew off the shelf.”  
Lance laughed then, a genuine, warm laugh. “What’s so funny?” Keith asked.  
“Ah, Coran, what a legend,” Lance said, still laughing, “oh, I see what he did. He wanted to protect my grimoire from you, how sweet.”  
“Are you talking about the ghost that is supposed to be in this room?” Keith rolled his eyes, “it wasn’t him. Or, at least, I didn’t see him. And I can see ghosts, apparently.”  
“You can only see ghosts when they want you to see them,” Lance explained, “if Coran doesn’t trust you for whatever reason, you’re not going to see him. It’s okay though, Coran,” he raised his voice a little, “Keith is cool. He has my permission to be here and touch what he pleases. Okay, buddy?”

There was no answer, but Keith hoped that Coran heard that, even though he still found it hard to believe that he was real. Lance picked up the book and gestured at Keith to join him on the floor.  
“This,” Lance placed it in Keith’s lap, “this is my grimoire. You can look through it. There are some of my own additions to some of the methods I use there, some interesting special cases I solved that required more creativity than usual, some spells I got from other witches or came up with myself…”  
“Wow,” Keith whispered as he gently turned the pages, “this is… Lance, this is amazing.”

The book was a work of art. It was a Frankenstein’s Monster of sorts, pieced together from articles, books, random pieces of paper, even receipts. There were pictures, drawings and sketches, there were lists and recipes, some pages looked like poetry, others had organized charts and runes. Keith could never imagine that Lance was capable of creating something so beautiful.  
“It took me years to achieve this,” Lance told him quietly, “and it’s still not done, of course. I keep adding to it.”  
Keith did notice a few blank pages, and many of the pages were added in, glued, tied or folded into pockets. He wanted a few hours alone with that book, just to explore and read all of the small tips in the margins.   
“You’re a lot more professional than I expected,” Keith admitted.  
“That’s quite the backhanded compliment,” Lance commented, “but I’ll take it. It’s rare coming from you.”  
“All right,” Keith put the grimoire aside, “tell me what troubles you had at Altea then.”

 

Keith quizzed him on the menu and gave him some tips, but there was not much he could teach Lance in that area. Being a good waiter mostly came with practice, not theory.  
“How long are you going to keep working there for?” Lance asked him as they took a break and sat down in the living room.  
“What do you mean?”  
“Well, you’re not going to be a waiter your whole life, are you?”   
Keith stared at him for a moment. “Why does it matter?”  
“Keith, you must have a dream.”  
“Dreams are unrealistic.”  
“Come on,” Lance nudged at him, “there must be something you want to do.”  
“I wanted to be a pilot,” Keith’s answer was so quiet Lance wasn’t sure he heard him properly.  
“A pilot?”  
“Yes,” Keith said, “but it doesn’t matter. I don’t think I can even get into college.”  
“Have you… Tried?”  
“I don’t have the money.”  
“It’s not impossible,” Lance said, “there are loans for that, and you can – “   
“Just drop it,” Keith told him, “I don’t want to talk about it.”  
Lance opened his mouth to insist, but Keith’s face was very serious and pushing him further seemed like a dangerous idea. He closed his mouth and looked away.

They went back to studying. This took them quite a while, with practicing and testing Keith’s abilities, and it was incredibly frustrating. By the time they felt like they were too tired to continue, it was one in the morning and Lance decided to stay there for the night, since he had an evening shift the next day.

“I can sleep on the couch,” Keith told him, “it’s your place anyway.”  
“Don’t be stupid,” Lance said, “my bed is big enough. Your bed is terrible, by the way. I fell off last night.”  
Keith let out a short laugh and Lance looked up at him, surprised to hear it. It was strange to hear Keith’s laugh in Lance’s voice, but it was even stranger to feel good about making Keith laugh, even though he was clearly laughing at him and not with him.  
They took turns in the bathroom and Keith let Lance borrow some clothes – his own clothes.  
While Lance looked through his wardrobe, he turned to Keith with a curious look. “Just a thought - have you ever tried wearing a crop top?” he asked.  
“Don’t even think about it.”  
“Why not?” Lance frowned, “you have impressive abs. You should show them off.”  
“I’d feel uncomfortable,” Keith said.

Lance smiled at that and grabbed a shirt from the closet. “Well, I won’t,” he said, “let’s find out.”  
“No, Lance – “ Keith started, but Lance already took off his boring black T-shirt and pulled on a bright red crop top. It was tighter across Keith’s chest than it was on Lance’s, but it made it look even hotter.  
“Fuck yeah,” said Lance as he checked himself out in the mirror, “you look totally hot, man! What a missed opportunity, you could dress like this all the time. Wait, let me try it with the jacket.”  
Keith buried his face in his hands, blushing hard, refusing to look at his own body dressed this way. With the leather jacket and the ripped jeans, Keith’s body looked infinitely more attractive in Lance’s eyes. He begged Keith to add some black eyeliner to complete the look, to which Keith replied with frustration: “it’s 1am, Lance, who puts make up on at 1am? Go the fuck to sleep.”  
Lance obeyed and changed into sweats, but he made a note to himself to steal some clothes while Keith wasn’t looking in order to make Keith slightly more fashionable than he usually was.

 

Keith was bothered by Lance sleeping in the same bed as him. Technically, he didn’t mind. He knew it was fine. They were just two people sleeping on the same surface. He didn’t even hate Lance anymore, not really. Whatever heat was between them was gone, with only slight annoyance remaining. But it wasn’t about that. Keith had that problem ever since those rumors in high school. He was used to guys beating him up for so much as looking at them, even if it was in the most innocent way. It developed into irrational guilt he kept feeling every time he so much as made eye contact with some guy on the street. It was worse when he actually thought “oh, this guy is cute”, or even attempted to flirt. It was the reason why his love life was so non-existing.

Therefore, lying there with Lance’s even breathing just a few inches away was killing him, even though he wasn’t thinking about Lance in a sexual way. He kept to his corner, his back pressed to the wall, his eyes wide open. It didn’t help that Lance had the sleeping habits of a starfish, apparently, since his limbs were all over the place and he almost hit Keith in the face every time he moved a little in his sleep.

The situation was made even worse by the fact that Keith hadn’t touched himself ever since they switched bodies. This thought had occupied his mind before. He felt the need the night before, but since he barely made peace with so much as taking a shower, this was out of the question. It had only been a few days, so he wasn’t really worried. He could make it through a few days, or a few weeks, it wasn’t a big deal. But this small fact coming to his mind right at that moment, while he was trying not to feel guilty about simply existing in such a close proximity to a sleeping Lance, made everything a thousand times worse. He needed a break.

Keith got out of the bed carefully, making sure not to wake Lance as he did. He walked out of the room and into the Ghost Room, since it was the most isolated room in the apartment. There wasn’t much for him to do, so he turned on a small lamp and reached for the grimoire to study it. He half expected it to leap away from him again, but Lance’s little talk to Coran seemed to help, since it obediently remained in his hands.   
He gave up on trying to read about fifteen minutes in. His eyes were too tired, they were getting watery and began to sting. Instead, he studied the pictures and drawings.

He was startled by an unexpected presence in the room.  
“Why, hello there, young witch!” said the figure in front of him. It was the ghost of a man with an impressive mustache. Keith blinked at him.  
“Who the hell are you?”  
“You know who I am,” said the ghost, “my name is Coran, it’s nice to finally meet you!”  
“Crap,” said Keith, “so even the stupid story about the friendly ghost roommate is real?”  
“I’m afraid so – wait a minute, are you calling me stupid?”  
“God forbid,” said Keith, and he didn’t mean to sound so sarcastic, “I’m calling this whole situation stupid, I guess.”

Coran nodded and sat crossed legged in front of him. “Sat” is not the perfect word to describe it, perhaps, since he was floating in the air rather than sitting on any surface.  
“Do you want to talk about it?”  
“I really don’t.”  
“You seem troubled.”  
Keith sighed and put the book away. “I’m just tired,” he said.  
“I believe most people are asleep at this hour of the day.”  
“Can’t sleep.”  
“Why is that?”  
“There’s a Lance in my bed.”  
“Does he snore?” Coran asked, “I don’t believe I heard him snore. Hunk does, however. You’d be better off sleeping in Lance’s bed than Hunk’s.”  
“He doesn’t snore,” said Keith, “he does kick quite violently though.”  
“Ah! A kicker! Yes, that boy seems like one.”

“It’s not about that, anyway.”  
“Then what is it about?”  
“I don’t know,” Keith shrugged, “I’m just… I feel too aware of his presence.”  
“What if you place a pillow between the two of you?” Coran suggested thoughtfully, “or, what of you sleep upside down, with your head at his feet? Or, what if you bring your own blanket to make it feel more separate?”  
“You underestimate my overthinking skills,” Keith sighed, “I can’t stop the panic.”  
“What are you so scared of, anyway?”   
“Being a creep?” Keith shrugged.  
“Are you?” Coran kept smiling his ridiculous, cheerful smile, “a creep, that is.”  
“I hope not,” said Keith, “but I’d still feel like one.”

“Just a thought,” Coran said, “do you know how stupid people don’t think that they’re stupid? Well, creeps don’t usually think that they’re creeps. They’re trying to justify their actions, not condemn themselves. Your overthinking is the first sign that you’re very much not a creep.”  
Keith rubbed at his eyes, tired but slightly calmer now. There was a lot of sense in Coran’s words, but he was also getting advice from a ghost with a mustache at 3:30 in the morning, so he wasn’t sure that he was in the position to judge what makes sense and what doesn’t.  
“If you want,” Coran said, “I can watch over you, to make sure you’re not being a creep.”  
“But then you’d be the creep,” Keith argued.  
“Yes, but I have no conscience, Keith, I’m a ghost.”  
“Please don’t watch me while I sleep.”  
“I’ll do my best.”

Keith took a deep breath, thinking about it. Then he realized something. “Coran,” he said, “why is this the first time I’m able to see you? You were the one moving the grimoire, weren’t you?”  
“That is correct,” Coran said, “I wasn’t aware that Lance trusted you with this, I was only trying to protect him. And you couldn’t see me because I thought you weren’t ready to see me before. You were… How do you youngsters say it these days? Freaking out?”  
“Yes, I guess I was,” Keith half-smiled, “but I’m still freaking out. Why now?”  
“Well, you’ve seen one ghost,” Coran shrugged, “I thought you can handle me now. Besides, you seemed like you needed some advice. I can’t help it, when I see a young heart aching for help, I must do my best.”  
  
Keith thanked Coran for the talk and eventually returned to the bedroom. Lance woke up when he joined him in the bed.  
“You okay?” Lance asked, his eyes barely open.  
“Yeah, go back to sleep,” Keith reassured him as he slid into his place by the wall.  
“ ‘M hogging the blanket?” Lance asked.  
“You can have it,” Keith whispered, “it’s not that cold.”  
“You’re so stupid,” Lance mumbled back, “come here.” He pulled Keith closer by his shirt, covering them both with the blanket. He mumbled something else that might have been goodnight, but he was asleep again before Keith even thought to answer.   
He smiled fondly at the sleepy idiot in his bed, and finally closed his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope you guys like this. Thank you for reading <3


	6. I Can See It Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the boys get more comfortable in each other's body, they struggle to understand why they aren't switching back yet. A few last pieces of the puzzle are missing for them, and together they finally complete it.

Two whole weeks had passed, and not much had changed. Their big date with Allura, Shay and Hunk had to be postponed, since Shiro went out of town for a few weeks. Lance made sure to mention Shiro around Allura from time to time, but there was not much he could say since he barely knew anything about Keith’s brother. He did manage to talk to Shay about Hunk, and he even thought about setting them up for a date earlier, but he decided to wait for Shiro to come back. His performance as a waiter improved greatly, even though his natural clumsiness cost Allura quite a few glasses and plates. His appearance had improved as well, since he managed to steal quite a few articles of his own clothes every time he visited Keith for a quick talk about work. He learned to enjoy being able to rock dark colors and this vaguely punk style he created for Keith, especially knowing that he would never be able to pull it off in his own body.

Keith, on the other hand, was unable to understand how matching colors worked. He gave up on Blue Lion’s persona and focused instead on the craft. These two weeks did wonders to his skills, since he worked day and night on improving them. He studied the grimoire thoroughly, carrying it with him wherever he went, reading a few pages before sleep like a bedtime story. His customers were gradually more content with him, his readings sounded more coherent and he stopped freaking out every time he saw a ghost. He practiced some spells on his own, which turned out to be surprisingly effective. He performed a love spell for a guy who seemed completely helpless when he came in, and that guy called a few days later to say that it worked. The skeptic in Keith told him that perhaps the situation wasn’t so helpless and that the guy just needed a boost of confidence, but he wanted to believe, so he did.

The thing that bothered him the most, however, was that they still hadn’t switched back. If Aamon’s instructions were anything to go by, they were supposed to switch back when they finally understood each other. Well, Keith was certain that he learned enough about Lance to respect and even admire him a little. Lance seemed to understand his troubles as well, so it made no sense for them to remain stuck this way.

The most worrying part about this was that Keith was getting used to it. He was no longer freaking out about showers, for example. Lance’s body didn’t feel so bizarre to him anymore. He was used to the length of his arms, to the slim waist, to Lance’s voice coming out of his throat. He grew fond of Hunk, rapidly becoming more comfortable around him. Hunk even tried to teach him how to cook, saying that with Pidge’s cooking abilities in mind, Keith had to know a little more about the culinary world for the both of them. He barely ever missed his own apartment and only went to visit twice, and even that was just to see Pidge. He missed his brother, but Shiro was out of town anyway, and Lance let him text his brother whenever he was over at their place. It didn’t seem unbearable anymore, and that scared the shit out of him.

Lance, too, was getting comfortable with this new body. He was appalled by how much exercise Keith had to do to stay so fit, but he grew to like it. With Keith’s muscles, exercise suddenly didn’t feel so bad. Even though he missed Hunk, he had to admit that Pidge was a cool roommate. They bonded over video games and insane discussions at two in the morning. Sure, he missed Hunk’s cooking, but he learned a few things over the years and he was able to cook on his own now. Pidge certainly appreciated it. Befriending Shay and Allura was another perk. His impossible crush on Allura quickly subsided as he came to terms with the idea that Shiro was destined to be with her, and getting to know her on a platonic level was fun. He thought, briefly, that he would lose all of that once they switch back. He pushed this thought away, however, because he refused to think about sad things.

One Thursday night, Keith stayed up late to try the only thing he still hadn’t managed to figure out – scrying. Lance had warned him that crystal balls were not for beginners, but Keith hoped to see at least some sort of mist by that point. Everything else worked for him just fine, he even figured out Ouija boards, even though Lance told him they were mostly unnecessary and for show. It bothered him to have this one unsolved mystery. So there he was, two in the morning, staring at a crystal ball in a dimly lit room, his eyes unfocused and his mind concentrating on the energy within him. He didn’t know how long he sat there like this, meditating, completely detached from the world. Time felt like a distant illusion he did not remember anymore.

And then, there it was. Perfectly white mist, swirling, filling the ball just like Lance told him it would. Keith almost lost focus out of excitement, but he kept concentrating and let the mist settle. He stared at it for a while longer, until he recognized one shape that kept repeating. It looked somewhat like a crescent moon, but it was sideways and looked more to him like a smile. This was enough for his first time, he decided. He refocused his eyes and slowly came back to his senses. He took Lance’s warnings seriously. The grimoire described one particularly unfortunate scrying experience which did not end well and attracted a weird, screaming spirit who kept Lance up at night and spooked the hell out of Hunk, and a complicated cleansing ritual was needed to get rid of it. Keith wasn’t going to risk it. Once he put the ball away, he was overcome with excitement and he needed to share it with someone. Hunk was out of the question, since nothing could wake him up at such an hour and he wouldn’t understand anyway. Without thinking about it much, Keith called Lance.

It took a few rings, but Lance finally answered. “Mmm?” was his sleepy response.  
“Lance, I did it,” Keith said, his whole body buzzing with the sense of accomplishment, “I saw mist in the ball.”  
“Y’saw misss… Wha… Gimme a sec.” Lance was clearly pulled right out of some sweet dream, and Keith felt slightly guilty for that. Still, he waited patiently as he heard Lance shuffle in his bed. Then he yawned. “Okay, tell me.”  
Keith told him every detail about how he tried, long and hard, to see anything. Then he described what he finally saw in the ball.  
“White, huh?” Lance said, “that’s good. And if it was a moon, that’s generally a good sign, especially if you think it was more like a smile. Dude, you’re full of good fortune, basically.”

Keith could then hear some strange noise on Lance’s side, and what sounded like a spoon clinging in a mug. “Are you drinking coffee?” he asked.  
“If I don’t, I’m afraid I’ll fall asleep with the phone in my hand.”  
“Are you crazy? You’re not going to wake up tomorrow. I’m done anyway, you can go back to sleep.”  
“No you’re not,” Lance yawned again, “I can tell you want to talk about this. Shut up, I’m a big boy, I can take care of myself. So did you take safety precautions?”  
Keith didn’t insist any longer, and they chatted for a while about his concerns and excitement. Lance encouraged him to try again and for longer, but told him that he shouldn’t try it with clients just yet. When they both went quiet for a moment, Keith decided to ask him about what was on his mind for a while then.

“Lance,” he said quietly, “why aren’t we switching back yet?”  
Lance took a few seconds to think about it. “I don’t know,” he said at last, “I do feel like we understand each other by now. In Freaky Friday they would have totally switched back by now.”  
“I should watch this movie.”  
“You still haven’t?”  
“No,” Keith shrugged, “Hunk makes me watch popular romantic comedies.”  
“Hunk is doing the right thing,” Keith could hear the smirk in Lance’s voice, “but no, dude, you have to see it. I’m coming over tomorrow evening, I have a morning shift. We’ll watch it, yeah?”  
“Sure,” Keith said, “bring snacks.”  
They chatted for a little while more, but then Lance observed that it was really late for Keith to be still up and made him promise to go to sleep right away. Keith thought it was outrageous of him to say that, considering that he was the one who had to be up in less than four hours and Keith could stay in bed until roughly 10am. Still, there was no arguing with Lance when he was concerned about the health and safety of his friends.

 _Friends_ , Keith thought as he placed the phone on the bedside cabinet and climbed into bed. Were they friends now? When did that happen? He couldn’t pinpoint the moment he stopped thinking of Lance as his enemy or even “a rather annoying acquaintance”. Still, now that he thought about it, Lance really was his friend. He couldn’t deny that he was glad whenever Lance was over at their place, or that he enjoyed his company when they weren’t bickering about something stupid. Even the things that used to infuriate him were now endearing. Whenever Lance was teaching him about magic, Keith no longer felt like an incompetent student who had to prove his worth. Instead, he was eager to learn, admiring Lance for his knowledge and skill. As Keith closed his eyes that night, he wondered how it all happened so fast, and whether Aamon was aware of how well his plan was working.

* * *

The next day, Lance found himself excited about going over to Keith’s place – his own, he reminded himself – to watch that movie. He was about to wear something boring since Keith couldn’t know that he was secretly wearing his own awesome clothes, but he decided that getting a reaction out of Keith could be potentially fun. He chose, then, the black mini-skirt to pair with his combat boots and a chiffon shirt.

 When Keith opened the door, as expected, he was shocked and flustered.  
“Are you wearing a – oh god, did you shave my legs?”  
“Touch them!” Lance said, walking over to the couch and prompting one of his leg on it for Keith to access, “they’re so smooth and wonderful. Also, please notice what body lotion can do to your skin.”  
“Are you crazy? You can’t just – oh my god, that really is smooth,” he commented as he touched Lance’s silky leg. He never thought his own legs could look so attractive, but Lance managed to make them look (and feel) amazing. Then he looked up at Lance’s face.  
“What the hell is this?” he asked, catching his face between his hands to hold it to the light, “make-up, too? Why would you – for fuck’s sake, how do you do that? I’ve been struggling with that blue pencil of yours for weeks and you just make those wing-thingies perfectly straight?”  
“Believe me, that’s the only thing in my life that’s perfectly straight,” Lance said with a wink.  
Keith struggled not to smile and looked away, dropping his hands from Lance’s face. Lance, in turn, laughed and patted him on the shoulder. “I love how embarrassed you are about all of this,” he told Keith, “it’s adorable. But really, you should try things like this more often.”  
“Well, maybe you should try dressing like me more often?”  
“What, boring?”  
“No, comfy,” Keith shrugged, “and practical.”  
Lance snorted. “Right,” he said, “because wearing nothing but a leather jacket during the winter is extremely practical, right? Pidge told me how often you get a cold.”  
“Pidge is a traitor and they’re dead to me now,” Keith said, to Lance's great amusement, “can we just get to the movie already?”

 

They finally watched Freaky Friday, which Keith seem to enjoy, judging by the lack of sarcastic remarks he had to offer. As always, they didn’t stop after one movie and watched a couple more. Then Hunk told them, politely, that he was going to bed since he had to wake up early the next day. Lance and Keith got the hint and went to the bedroom to keep watching quietly on Lance’s laptop. The fourth movie, which neither of them had seen before, turned out to be quite boring and they gave up on it halfway through.

“Keith,” Lance said as he put the laptop away, “can we talk about your brother, please?”  
Keith moved a little away from him. “What is there to talk about?”  
“I don’t know,” Lance said, “you know quite a lot about me. You know the entire history of my family. I feel like I still know nothing about you. Like, for example, when Shiro came over to talk a couple of weeks ago, he seemed so happy to listen that I was convinced you guys had a very open relationship. But then, your reaction – “  
“Yeah, we don’t talk much about that stuff,” said Keith.  
“Why not?”

Keith took a deep breath and looked away. Lance thought he wasn’t going to answer, but then he did.  
“I was adopted by Shiro’s family when I was five,” he said quietly, “my parents died when I was really young and I was in the system for a while. Then they came along and changed my life.”  
“Wait, so he’s not – “  
“Not my biological brother, no.”  
“Well that explains it,” Lance said, “there’s no way two siblings could win the genetic lottery like this. Unless your parents are supermodels or something.”  
Keith gave him an unamused look, but his cheeks were bright red. Lance chuckled. “Right, go on then.”  
“Before I went to high school, Shiro played the part of the protective brother and told me that if there was ever a problem, he would come to my school and beat everyone up for me,” he smiled a little, “so I felt quite safe. But then the rumors happened… I couldn’t tell him. I couldn’t tell my parents. I thought that if anyone in my family found out, they would kick me out of the house.”

“Why, were they – “  
“No,” Keith cut him off, “they are amazing, they always were. Shiro, too. They never made me feel like I should be ashamed of any part of myself. But I was young and stupid, you know how it is. When you’re in the closet at that age, and everyone bullies you for it, it makes you feel like you’re hiding the most terrible secret. So I didn’t tell them. Until one day, I got a pretty bad beating. Usually they’d push me to the floor and kick me, so most of the bruising was on my body where I could hide it. This time some asshole punched me in the face, so I came home with a nasty black eye. Shiro was pissed. I tried to lie and say that I fell, but he wasn’t buying it. He told me that he would go to the school and find out what happened, so I panicked and told him about the rumors. You know, looking back at it, most people in his place would probably say that it’s stupid because the rumors were obviously lies. Shiro didn’t do that. He told me that those guys are hateful idiots for picking on someone for being gay. And then he taught me how to fight.”  
“Is that how you got ripped?”  
“It was a process,” Keith said, “my parents signed me up for taekwondo lessons. It was nice, actually, and pretty useful. It took some time, but eventually I was able to defend myself. I came out to Shiro once high school was over, although he said that he knew already. He was very accepting, said he’s proud of me, all that stuff. I came out to my parents when I moved in with Pidge, specifically because they were convinced that Pidge was a girl and that we were dating. That was quite an entertaining family dinner, but they took it well.”

“Sounds like you have a great relationship with them,” Lance said, “but then why don’t you talk to Shiro about things like your love life?”  
“Because I don’t want him to ever look at me like he did that day,” Keith told him, “the way he looked at me when I was vulnerable and pathetic. I worked hard on making him see me as his equal, as someone who can take care of himself.”  
“Aww,” Lance smiled, “you want your brother to think you’re cool?”  
“Shut up,” Keith shoved him, turning away. But Lance moved closer to him and bumped into Keith’s shoulder with his forehead.  
“No, it’s cute,” he said, “Keith, I get it. Really, I do. You look up to him, you admire him, and you want him to look at you the same way. But Keith, you oblivious idiot, he already does.”  
Keith didn’t answer, so Lance went on. “He wants you to see him as your big, tough brother. It’s so obvious. You both want to be this brick wall for each other, but in reality you’re both massive dorks throwing bricks into the air, thinking that’s the way to go.”  
“Terrible use of metaphor,” Keith commented.  
“Man, we really need to make the two of you talk more,” Lance mused, “maybe things will change once he gets with Allura.”  
Keith pushed him away and got up from the bed.  
“Where are you going?”  
“The bathroom,” Keith grunted, “and then to sleep. I’m tired.”  
Lance sighed, but he let it go.

 

They didn’t even discuss Lance staying over for the night this time. It was his bed anyway, and they took it for granted at this point. However, Keith still had trouble falling asleep before Lance did, and Lance wasn’t tired yet, so they just kept chatting in the dark.  
“Keith?” Lance asked him then.  
“Mm?”  
“I wanted to ask you,” he said, “you have a scar right here,” his finger pointed at the exposed skin between his shoulder and his collar bone, “how did you get it?”  
“Fell out of a tree,” Keith answered plainly.  
“When was that?”  
“Not so long ago, actually,” Keith said, “some boy climbed on a tree and was too scared to get down so I climbed up there to help him. The kid got out just fine, but I, apparently, was the one who should’ve been worried. There was a strategically placed rock on the ground, got me right here,” Keith reached out to touch where he knew the scar was, and Lance shivered under his touch.

“Your hands are cold.”  
“Yeah,” said Keith, “your hands and feet freeze surprisingly easily. It drives me crazy. You should wear gloves or something.”  
“And cover my beautiful hands? No thank you. Huh, can’t believe you fell out of a tree. I have one too,” he reached with his right hand and lifted Keith’s shirt just a little to touch his hip. His fingers found the small scar easily.  
Keith had noticed that scar before, but he didn’t think they would ever be close enough to share such stories. Now, however, it seemed appropriate. Lance’s fingers were surprisingly warm, but he still flinched a little at the touch, all of his worries and guilt sharpening.  
“How did you get it?” he asked, because Lance seemed to be waiting for the question.  
“Remember how I told you not to run with scissors?” Lance grinned at him. Keith remembered. The first day after the switch, he wanted to cut Lance’s shirt with a pair of scissors. He kind of wanted to cut Lance with those scissors, too.  
“Well, I ran with scissors,” Lance said, “slipped on wet floor, fell and stabbed myself. Fun times.”  
“Sounds like something you would do.”

“Ha,” Lance poked him in the side for that, making Keith flinch and give him an annoyed look. This amused Lance even more, and as he laughed, his hand slipped across the bottom of Keith’s stomach before he retrieved it. The touch was brief and careless, with no intention behind it, but considering Keith’s predicament, it was enough. He froze as he realized that his body was reacting in a way he very much didn’t want to react, and he rolled over to face the wall and turn his back to Lance.  
Lance, however, was slightly worried by this.  
“Oh, come on,” he said, “I didn’t even poke you that hard. I think I got used to your weird super-strength by now. Keith, come on, don’t be mad at me,” he grabbed him by the shoulder to shake him a little, which made it even worse for Keith, “don’t be a baby. Do you want to poke me back?”  
“It’s not that,” Keith grunted, “just… Just give me a moment.”  
He breathed, trying to concentrate on anything else. But his words only awoke Lance’s curiosity, and now he was peeking at his face over Keith’s shoulder, much closer than Keith wanted him to be.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, “you sound like you’re in pain.”  
“I’m not in pain,” Keith said, “I’m just…” he sighed loudly, wishing for an instant death, “I’m experiencing other sensations.”  
“Oh, did you get a hard-on? From _that_?” Lance sounded surprised more than judgmental.  
“It’s not just that,” Keith said quietly, “it’s just been a while since I… Well, basically anything can turn me on right now. I told you, just give me a moment.”  
“Huh? What’s the problem?” Lance asked, “dude, just go to the bathroom and take care of it. I don’t care, I’ll probably fall asleep anyway.”  
“I can’t,” said Keith, properly annoyed at this point.  
“Why not?”  
“Because I don’t… I can’t touch your body. Like that.”  
Now Lance seemed truly concerned. “Wait,” he said, “are you telling me you haven’t touched my dick since we switched? Dude, please tell me you’ve been taking showers at least – “

“Of course I’ve showered,” Keith said, turning around to look at him, “although it was a bit awkward at first, too. I’m trying to give you the privacy you deserve.”  
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Lance told him, “are you kidding me? I’ve jerked off on the first night. I’ve jerked off plenty of times. You should really put a lock on your door, by the way, Pidge is now scarred for life.”  
“Oh my god,” Keith hid his face in his hands, “stop talking.”  
“Well, what’s the matter? It’s just a physical need to fulfil. It’s just like eating or taking a leak. Who cares? You’ve seen dicks before, haven’t you? I don’t care if you use mine for a while. It’s not like we have a choice, we’re stuck in a situation where it’s kind of unavoidable. What if we’re going to be stuck like this for another month? Six months? A year? Are you going to just never touch yourself?”  
“We’ll change back soon, I’m sure,” said Keith, “and it hasn’t even been that long, just a few weeks. I can do a few weeks.”  
“Suit yourself,” Lance shrugged and fell back onto his pillow, “aren’t you a little curious, though? I definitely was. I was even kind of turned on by the idea of getting myself off in a body I wasn’t used to. You’re missing out.”  
“You’re the worst,” said Keith, and it was impossible for his face to get any redder, “how can you just say things like that? You have no filter.”  
“You have too much of a filter,” said Lance, “we’re not in fifth grade, everyone knows what masturbation is, and you’re not going to be burned at the stake for talking about ungodly practices like that. Who even cares? Who is going to judge you? Who is going to know?”  
“I will know,” said Keith.  
“You’re being too hard on yourself, no pun intended," Lance's face looked as if that pun was very, very intended, "cut yourself some slack.” He reached then and ruffled Keith’s hair a little. Normally, Keith would swat his hand away. But this wasn’t even his hair, and he was already sleepy, and he was a little more comfortable now that his erection was gone, so he didn’t move.  
They fell asleep soon after that.

While they were asleep, unbeknown to them, the Marquis of Hell, Aamon himself, visited them. He was satisfied with the outcome of his curse, and he decided that his work there was done. With that, he switched them back and was gone from their lives forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys like this one. The next couple of chapters are going to be longer.  
> Thank you for reading <3


	7. One Stressful Triple Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They may be back in their own bodies, but they still owe Shiro a group date, and Lance is more than happy to torture Keith through mock flirting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw for mentions of alcohol in this chapter. it's more of a background thing and all of the characters are legally allowed to drink, but just in case.

Keith woke up at the sound of Lance’s excited voice. “Get up, get up, get up!”   
He opened his eyes to see Lance standing in front of the mirror, examining his own face. It took him a moment to realize before his heart leapt and made him sit up at once. Lance was standing there in his own body.  
Keith looked down at his hands, which were a few shades paler than what he got used to over the past few weeks. He patted himself down just to make sure. He felt like himself.  
“We’re back,” he said.  
“Yes!” Lance shrieked, “thank FUCK, I thought we’d be stuck like that forever. Ugh, I think you made me lose some weight. Did you even eat? You didn’t take care of me at all.”  
“I fed you just fine,” Keith mumbled as he got up and walked to the bathroom. He wanted to look at himself without Lance looming over his shoulder.  
Seeing his own face in the mirror was a huge relief. He felt like he gained back control, and it was as if the giant knot in his stomach was finally loose.

“I wonder what broke the curse,” Lance said when he came back to the room to get dressed, “if I knew all it took was to talk to you about masturbation – “  
“Shut up,” Keith threatened him with a hairbrush in his hand, “now that I’m no longer in your feeble body – “  
“Excuse you - ”  
“ – I can properly kill you and make it painful.”  
“Can’t believe you just called me feeble,” said Lance, deeply offended as he turned back to the mirror to flex his muscles, “I could probably lift you if I really tried.”  
“I tried to open a jar with your hands once and almost broke your fingers,” Keith commented.  
“That’s because you’re a dumbass who doesn’t know that you’re supposed to wedge a knife between the lid and the jar to let the air in and break the vacuum,” Lance told him, “and besides – “  
“Crap, I have work today,” Keith remembered then.

“Relax, I got you an evening shift today,” Lance yawned, “you’ve been taking too many morning shifts. And you don’t even sleep, you’re terrible.”  
“I’m glad to see the body switching didn’t make us reach any profound conclusions about each other,” said Keith as he looked around, “where are the jeans you left here? I’m not going back in a skirt.”  
“Uh, they’re back at your place,” said Lance, “I don’t think you have a choice.”  
“I’ll just borrow your pants then,” Keith concluded.  
“Can’t,” Lance shrugged, “I tried, I have this pair of awesome white jeans that I thought would look great on you. But your legs are too short and your hips are too wide. You got a thick ass, Keith.”  
“I hate you,” said Keith.  
“Hey, it’s a compliment! I like your thick ass.”  
“Fuck you,” Keith flipped him off, “I’ll just wear sweatpants.”  
“You’re impossible.”  
“Thanks, you too.”  
They stared at each other for a moment, then Keith grabbed a pair of Lance’s sweats and went to find his shoes.

Everything went back to normal rather quickly. Keith felt as if he never left work in the first place. Shay seemed a little disappointed to find him less chatty than he was for the past few weeks, but Allura was glad when he stopped messing up so much. Pidge complained about Lance a lot, but Keith had the suspicion that they secretly missed him. One week went by, and he missed him too. They stopped talking since there was no need for them to keep each other updated, and Keith suddenly realized how quickly he became accustomed to sharing every detail with Lance. Sometimes they talked about the silliest things, like finding out that Lance forgot to mention how much he hated mangos, or that Keith’s mother expected him to call at least once a week, or that Pidge had the disgusting habit to put an empty milk carton back in the fridge and it pissed both of them off. Now there was nothing. There was a really annoying customer at work one day, who said something that Keith strongly suspected would make Lance laugh, and he almost called him. Almost. Then he thought that Lance probably never wanted to hear from him again, so he didn’t.

There was one issue, however, that was yet to be solved, which Keith completely forgot about. That is, until Shiro texted him one day. He informed him that he was back in town, and he was ready for their big group date that weekend, if they were all still up for it. Anxious, but secretly excited, Keith decided to call Lance. Then he thought that perhaps a text would be better. He sat there for about twenty minutes trying to formulate a text, then he gave up and decided to call anyway.

“Keith?” Lance answered. He could hear the TV in the background.  
“Hey,” said Keith, “remember how you made big plans with my brother without asking me? Yeah, time to pay your dues.”  
“You say it as if you’re talking about my execution,” Lance sounded amused, “so Shiro’s back?”  
“Yeah, he wants us all to go out this weekend.”  
“Roger that, give me a moment,” said Lance, “hey Hunk! What are your plans for this weekend?”  
Keith heard Hunk somewhere in the distance, saying “well actually I was thinking about going out with my coworkers…”   
But Lance cut him off. “Ditch the nerds, you’re coming with us,” he said, “Keith and I have the most amazing girl in the world to introduce to you.”

Hunk whispered something in response, but Keith couldn’t hear him.  
“No, listen,” Lance said, “she’s the real deal. You’ll probably marry her someday. I’m serious! Keith, tell him. Wait, I’m putting you on speaker,” there was a pause, “now. Tell him.”  
“Shay is great,” Keith said, because he couldn’t deny it, “if I wasn’t super gay, I would totally marry her by now.”  
“See? You have to come with us. Oh, shit, Keith and I are going to pretend we’re dating.”  
“Do we have to?” Keith groaned, “can’t we just say it didn’t work out?”  
“I already told your brother that you’re head over heels for this amazing witch boy named Lance. But if you want, we can fake a huge fight scene and you can dump me in front of everyone.”  
“Can I slap you in the face?”  
“Guys, please,” said Hunk in the distance, “no violence.”  
“We’ll figure something out,” said Lance, “will you talk to Allura and Shay then?”  
“What? Why me?” Keith frowned.  
“Well, you know, there’s this small fact that they have no idea who I am and never met me before.”  
“Fuck,” Keith sighed, “I keep forgetting that you were me this whole time.”  
“Talk to them!”  
“I hate you.”  
“I know, but it’s okay,” Lance told him, “it’s the sign of a great friendship.”

Inviting Shay turned out to be very easy since she had no plans and she was glad to finally meet “that Hunk you’re always talking about”. Allura, on the other hand, proved to be more difficult.  
“I don’t know, Keith,” she said, “it just seems weird for me to hang out with my employees, especially if it’s only two of them. Smells like favoritism.”  
“We’re not going to get special treatment because you came to dinner with us this one time,” Keith told her. She didn’t look convinced in the slightest, so he tried something a little different.  
“Shiro really counts on seeing you there,” he hinted, “you’re kind of the whole reason he’s going to be there at all.”  
This seemed to interest her. “Really?”  
“Yes, he definitely wants to get to know you better,” Keith told her.  
“Well, he seems like a great guy,” he could swear Allura was blushing, “oh, but he doesn’t think this would be a date, does he?”  
“Of course not,” Keith said, “what kind of a date has four more people in it?”  
“And you say your boyfriend will be there?”  
“Yes,” Keith said, “although that word is a bit too strong. He’s not my ‘boyfriend’, not really. We’re dating, sort of, we haven’t even discussed our relationship yet. It doesn’t matter, this will be a friendly thing, nothing else.”  
She thought about it for a moment, but then she finally agreed.

* * *

 

The days went by too quickly, and suddenly the weekend was there. Keith wasn’t at all mentally prepared for this. As if this wasn’t bad enough, Pidge insisted on coming along. When they heard that Lance and Keith were going to pretend to be dating, they begged to come along so they could laugh at their pain. Or, at least, at Keith’s pain, since Lance seemed perfectly cheerful about the whole thing.

Keith and Pidge got to the restaurant on his motorcycle and met Hunk and Lance outside.   
“Hello, darling,” Lance told him with a smile, “will you greet your loving partner with a kiss?” he leaned close to him, his arms open wide and his lips now pursed together in a very exaggerated way.  
“I’ll kiss your face with my boot if you keep pissing me off,” Keith told him.   
“Ouch,” said Lance, dropping his hands in mock disappointment. Pidge was already laughing at them, and Hunk just gave them both a sympathetic look.   
Shiro joined them next, visibly nervous and rather quiet as he greeted everyone.   
“So, this is the guy who managed to bewitch my brother?” he asked when Lance introduced himself.  
“I promise no magic was involved in stealing his heart,” Lance told him with a charming smile, “I managed to woo him using just my pretty eyes.”  
“Must be some magical eyes,” Shiro said, “if you convinced him that ghosts exist.”  
“Oh, you wouldn’t like his methods of convincing, Shiro,” Pidge said, amused.  
“Oh?” Shiro looked at Lance, his tone light but his eyes warning, “anything I should know about?”  
“Pidge just means that you wouldn’t want to hear about the seduction of your own brother,” Lance said, looking pointedly at Pidge.  
“No, I mean he summoned a demon and scared us all to shit,” Pidge said.  
“A demon?” Shiro laughed, “did you use a Ouija board and everything?”  
“Oh look, Shay’s here,” Keith said, relieved to have a reason to stop this conversation and save him from this nightmare, “over here, Shay!”

He had to do all of the introducing, since he was the only one who supposedly knew everyone present. Hunk and Shay didn’t hit it off right away since it was a bit awkward in front of everyone, but Lance clearly did his best to get the two of them to talk. When Allura finally arrived, they walked in.   
While they were figuring out the sitting arrangement, Keith pulled Lance by the sleeve and whispered in his ear, “don’t embarrass me in front of my brother.”  
Lance stepped even closer and whispered back “I would never, my love.” When Keith gave him a stern look, Lance rolled his eyes and pulled him close again, whispering “relax, he’s too distracted by Allura to even think that there’s anything fishy here. Look at them.”  
Keith looked up just in time to see Shiro pull the chair out for Allura. They smiled sweetly at each other, both shy, and Shiro complimented her on her dress.  
“You should be more worried about the ungodly creature you brought with you,” Lance told him quietly, “Pidge is totally here to sabotage us.”  
“Pidge wants to see you lose your shit,” Keith told him, “and if I wasn’t scared that my brother will find out, I’d probably be amused too.”  
“For that I’m going to make you share the dessert with me and I’m going to call you my Cute, Tiny Pumpkin for the rest of the evening.”  
“Don’t you dare.”  
“Fucking watch me.”

Once everyone settled down, the conversation got a lot more comfortable. They ordered their food and Pidge, weirdly enough, hit it off with Shay right away. Shay turned out to be a lot smarter than Keith had expected, and she had some interest in Pidge’s project.   
Allura, in turn, seemed very curious about Lance and his profession, saying that her mother was also a witch and that she grew up around all sorts of mysticism. Shiro and Hunk got into a passionate discussion about cars, of all things, which Keith had no idea either of them had interest in. Keith found himself sitting silently, listening in on whatever conversation seemed loudest at the moment, staring at his napkin.   
He looked up when he felt cold fingers lightly touching his wrist.  
“You okay?” Lance asked, leaning in to whisper to him. Allura seemed distracted by something Shiro and Hunk were discussing.  
“Yeah,” Keith whispered back. And then, since Lance was still watching him, he added “a little nervous.”  
“Do you want to go out for a few minutes? The food will take a while anyway.”  
“Yeah, good idea,” Keith nodded. He was about to excuse himself under the disguise of going to the bathroom, but then Lance was on his feet, saying “we’ll be right back”, and pulling Keith by the hand.

They stepped outside, moving away from the windows, and Lance let him have some space.   
“Need to talk about it?” he asked.  
“No.”  
“Okay,” he nodded, “take your time. I’m right here if you need me.”  
Keith couldn’t figure out why his anxiety was acting out this way. It was going great, he was relieved to be left out of the conversations since socialization made him nervous anyway, and then he was overwhelmed without even realizing it. He felt better right away, just stepping out of the restaurant was a relief. He turned back to look at Lance.  
“Sorry,” he said, “I didn’t mean to freak out. You didn’t have to come with me.”  
“Of course I did,” Lance smiled at him, “you’re my Cute, Tiny Pumpkin.”  
Keith wanted to slap him, but it was only because that stupid comment made him smile like an idiot. He covered his mouth and looked away. “I hate you.”  
“You can’t hate me, you’re my date.”  
“I’m going to break up with you by dumping you in a river.”  
“Careful,” Lance warned him, “I might just propose to you tonight out of spite.”  
“Can you imagine?” Keith let out a small laugh.  
“Do you think Shiro would strangle me or pretend to be really happy for you?”  
“Pretend to be happy, wait for you to go to the bathroom, then go after you, strangle you, dump your body in the dumpster behind the restaurant and pretend that nothing happened.”  
“Dark.”  
“But true,” Keith smiled. This felt strangely easy. He missed this. Lance’s annoying personality made him want to murder him, but it made him happy at the same time. He couldn’t, for the life of him, understand his own feelings.  
“Ready to go back?” Lance asked him.  
“I would recommend keeping the knives away from me if you’re going to keep being an insufferable little shit,” Keith said, “but yes, let’s go back.”

By the time they came back the conversation had changed, and everyone seemed in on it.   
Shiro chuckled when he saw them approaching and said: “Keith is going to explode if you tell him this.”  
“Tell me what?” Keith asked, uncomfortable with all the eyes turning to him then.  
“Tell us your thoughts on aliens, Keith,” Shiro said with a bright smile.  
“I don’t have any thoughts on aliens,” Keith said, “I’ve never met them. I hope they’re nice, but if they kill us all, I’d understand.”  
From the corner of his eye, he could see Lance staring at him with his jaw practically on the floor.  
“I’m sorry,” Lance squeaked, “you told me that ghosts are bullshit but you believe in aliens?”  
“Aliens are scientifically much more probable than ghosts,” Keith said, “Pidge, back me up.”  
“I’m pretty sure I saw a UFO once,” Pidge nodded, “and seriously, watch a couple of conspiracy theory movies with this guy, you’d be convinced too. Honestly, I’m more surprised that Allura, who has no trouble believing that her grandmother once managed to summon the ghost of Cleopatra and have a chat with her, doesn’t believe in aliens. Do you really think we’re all alone in the universe?”  
“How is it easier to believe in little green Martians than in the lingering souls of humans after their death?” Lance sounded frustrated.  
“Let’s just leave it at that,” Hunk said, “what does it matter, anyway? Maybe there are aliens, maybe there aren’t. We can’t be sure.”  
They all opened their mouths to argue, but the food arrived then and they were distracted. Lance made a point out of calling Keith his Cute, Tiny Pumpkin very loudly when he asked him to pass the salt. Pidge almost chocked on their pasta with laughter.

Overall, dinner went well. Hunk and Shay seemed to get along just fine, Allura seemed more interested in socializing with everyone, but she certainly watched Shiro with adoration when he wasn’t looking. Pidge was the star of every conversation, always having some clever fact up their sleeve, though they seemed to have more fun when the discussions turned into heated arguments. Even when they argued, however (“How dare you? Bee Movie is a cinematographic masterpiece and I am not going to apologize for my opinion” and “Of course Shakespeare was bisexual, don’t even get me started on that, I have an 18-page essay memorized about this”) these arguments were carried in light tones and were accompanied by laughter. Keith was still tense, but Lance kept a reassuring hand on his and made sure to send him questioning looks throughout the evening, ready to take a break with him if he needed one. It was strange to have his presence so reassuring and comforting, especially when Keith kept having the urge to murder him right there and then.

By the time they got dessert (which they did end up sharing, to Lance’s delight) there was a silent agreement all around their table that this evening was not going to end there. Once they were out of the restaurant, they decided to go to Lance’s and Hunk’s place. Shiro was the only one with a car, and he could take four more people while Keith’s motorcycle could only fit one passenger. Pidge, Allura, Hunk and Shay all followed Shiro to his car without even talking about it.  
“Wait,” Lance said, “am I riding with Keith then?”  
“Uh, yes,” said Pidge, “it only makes sense for you to ride with _your boyfriend_. Oh, can you get some alcohol on your way?”  
“Not his boyfriend,” Keith corrected, the way he kept doing throughout the evening. Nobody paid any attention to that.  
“I am not getting on that Death Machine,” Lance shook his head, “no way, no thank you, not going to happen.”  
“What’s the matter, Sweetie?” Keith smiled at him, “are you scared?”  
Lance turned back to give him an unamused look. After a few long hours of taunts and mock flirting, Keith was finally going to get his revenge.  
“I have never been scared, of anything, my entire life. Not even once,” Lance told him.  
“Tell that to the spider in our bathroom,” Hunk snickered.  
“Hey, that is a terrifying beast! Only a fool would stare into its eyes without quaking!” Lance insisted.  
“Who, Larry? You’re scared of Larry the spider?” Keith raised his eyebrows at him.  
“You named the spider in my bathroom? Shiro, your brother is a freak,” Lance said.  
“You’re the one who’s dating him,” Shiro shrugged.

Lance ended up agreeing just to prove that he was fearless. For a fearless person, however, he had quite a few complaints.  
“Why don’t they have seatbelts for motorcycles,” he muttered as he watched Keith get onto it, “it seems so open and unsafe.”  
“Take that,” Keith passed him Pidge’s helmet, “see? Perfectly safe.”  
“I hope your driving habits are not as ridiculous as your coffee drinking habits,” Lance muttered as he examined the helmet, “I can’t imagine you going slow and safe. I bet you like it fast and reckless.”  
“Are we still talking about driving?”  
“Shut up.”  
“You’re the one who keeps talking. Would you hurry up? Shiro’s car is going to get there ages before we do.”  
At last, Lance climbed onto the motorcycle right behind Keith, immediately wrapping his hands around him and hanging on for dear life.  
“Just a tip,” said Keith right before slipping on his own helmet, “you probably don’t want to squeeze me to death, I’m going to need my lungs in order to drive.”  
Lance let out a very fake laugh but didn’t ease his grip. It remained incredibly tight for the rest of the ride, making a few slight adjustments whenever they stopped at a red light, grabbing at Keith’s jacket or moving them from his waist to wrap around his chest. Keith didn’t complain, although it was a bit too tight at times. He couldn’t even be annoyed with Lance’s terrified screaming, because it was too amusing.

When they stopped to buy some alcohol, Lance lay down on a bench outside and announced that he needed a few minutes to calm down. Keith called him a drama queen, but he waited patiently for Lance to come back to his senses and go inside with him. When they finally arrived at the apartment, Lance told him that he will never get anywhere close to his Mechanic Devil Horse, and that was that.

As expected, Shiro and the others got there before they did and were already seated in the living room. The couch only seated three, but Pidge and Allura were small enough to make room for both Shiro and Shay, and Hunk was seated in the armchair. He got up to help Keith and Lance with the alcohol, but Pidge announced that they could not start drinking without playing a game. Keith had no idea where the deck of cards came from, but suddenly they were all huddled around the coffee table playing a game he wasn’t familiar with. Keith didn’t want to play, but he sat on the floor beside Lance and looked at his cards over his shoulder. It took exactly twenty minutes of this game to get some vodka down everyone’s throats, and then someone mentioned charades, and Pidge was very excited to divide them into teams.

“Alright!” They said, “I’m not playing, because I’m going to come up with a list of random words for you guys to guess. So, first team will be Team Boyfriends,” they gestured at Keith and Lance, speaking up before Keith had the opportunity to protest, “second team… Hunk and Shay, you’ll be Team Pure Angels, because that’s what you are. And you guys…” Pidge looked at Allura and Shiro, unsure, “I’m just going to call you Team Shallura, okay?”  
Nobody argued with that, so while they sat down to make a list of words, the rest of them tried to think of a forfeit for the losing team. They settled on letting the winning teams put whatever they want in a blender and force the losers to drink it. Shiro and Allura turned out to be surprisingly competitive, immediately getting into fight mode. While Keith was usually quiet when it came to doing something in such large groups, the chance to kick Shiro’s ass sounded very appealing.

“Done,” Pidge announced at last, “we’re going to start with Team Boyfriends. Forty seconds on the clock, let’s see how many words you can guess. Lance, you’re going to be the one guessing. Keith, the rules are simple – no words, no sounds, no spelling words out. You know, basic charades. Ready?”  
Keith took his position in front of Lance and nodded at Pidge. They handed him the first word and pressed the button on the stopwatch.   
His word was “witch”. He wanted to hit Pidge for that, but there was no time. He pointed at Lance.  
“Me,” Lance began his guessing, “a perfect specimen. A beautiful, handsome man.”  
Keith rolled his eyes. He then attempted to portray a pointed hat on his head, and pretended to wave a wand in circles.  
“It’s a lasso… You’re a cowboy?” was Lance’s guess.  
“Pass,” Keith threw the word away, “I was a witch!”  
“Damn,” Lance sighed. Keith grabbed the next word, which was “lovers”. At this he spared a moment to give Pidge a pointed look. They seemed very amused.

Keith attempted to use his hands as puppets and make them kiss.   
“Kissing!” Lance said.  
Keith changed it into using his fingers, with each forefinger representing a person, and he held them together as a couple.  
“A passionate couple,” Lance said. This was warmer, so Keith proceeded to mash his fingers together, but this only led Lance to yell “fucking! Smashing! Porking! Screwing each other!”  
“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Keith threw away that word as well. He reached for the next one, which was “a thick ass”.  
Keith had about four seconds left. He turned around and pointed at his butt.  
“Oh, your beautiful thick ass, I love it,” Lance said.  
“Yes, thank god!”  
“Time!” Pidge called, “and Team Boyfriends has a total of one single point. It’s a good thing we have three rounds, you guys suck.”

“Seriously,” Keith said, “you can guess ‘a thick ass’ but can’t get ‘witch’?”  
“Priorities,” Lance shrugged.  
Hunk and Shay were next, and somehow Hunk guessed “dragon” within two seconds, even though Shay’s dragon certainly looked more like a slightly angry kitten to Keith. They finished with a total of three points.   
Then Allura stepped in front of them, rolling up her sleeves and taking a stance as if she was about to wrestle someone.  
“Bring it on,” she said. And then she brought it the fuck on. The way she dropped to the floor to do “mermaid” was impressive, but they were really surprised at how committed she was when the word was “Zeus” and she almost broke the table to demonstrate her godly might. They finished with a ridiculous total of five points. Lance blamed it on their words being incredibly easy, but Keith couldn’t deny that this was pure talent. They had a chance to redeem themselves in the second round, where they switched roles.

Lance stepped forward, and Keith tried his best to concentrate.  
The first thing Lance did was to point at Hunk and Shay.  
“Angels,” Keith said, and he was correct.  
For the second word, Lance dropped to the floor. “Fainting,” Keith said, “dying, falling?”  
Lance nodded at that, and then made a heart with his hands. “Heart. Love. Falling in love!”  
That was correct too.   
For the next word, Lance stayed on his knees. He ran a hand through his hair and batted his eyelashes at Keith, tracing his hand over his chest and down his stomach.  
“Oh god,” Keith grimaced, “what the hell is that?”  
Lance began to lick his lips a little too eagerly and turned a little sideways to demonstrate that he was stroking his own butt.  
“A… Weird… Creepy… Fish?”  
“Time!”

“That was supposed to be ‘sexy’, you idiot!”  
“That was not sexy in the slightest,” said Keith, raising his eyebrows.  
“Oh thank god,” said Shiro, “I don’t care that you’re gay, but if _that_ turns you on, we need to have a talk.”  
“A weird, creepy fish?” Lance looked deeply offended.  
“Well, what the hell were you doing with your lips?”  
“Sending you sensual kisses,” Lance deadpanned.   
“You were sending me something else,” Keith said, “and I didn’t like it.”  
“I was being very sexy! Hunk, tell him!”  
“You were being very sexy,” Hunk told him in the sweetest voice possible, “you’re doing great, buddy.”  
“At least someone in this house appreciates me.”

“I believe it is Team Pure Angels’ turn,” Pidge said, ending the discussion. They didn’t score so well this time, managing to get only one point, but they were still one point ahead of Keith and Lance.   
Shiro was also not as good at this as Allura was, and they scored two, but they were far ahead of everyone with a total of seven points.   
The last round had the category “movie titles”, and they had a full minute for that one. They also had the freedom to choose which one of them would be making a fool of themselves and which one would be guessing. Since Lance seemed to do better than Keith, he was chosen to be the fool.   
Keith was worried that he just wouldn’t know half of the movies since he wasn’t so big on cinematography. The first one, however, was very easy.  
Lance looked at the card, smiled, then gestured between the two of them.  
“Ha,” Keith said, “Freaky Friday.” They made way too many references to that movie for him not to get it within a single second. He glanced at Shiro, who seemed confused by this, but there was no time for explanations.   
Upon seeing the second card, Lance muttered “he doesn’t know that one” and dismissed it. For the next one, Lance reached for a pillow from the couch and held it above his head. As if he was holding a -   
“Lion king!” Keith shouted, and he was correct once again. That was a total of six points for their team, and Keith had hope in his heart.   
Lance proceeded to drown to depict Titanic and take off one of his rings to show Lord of the Rings. Keith got both of them.   
Then Lance got weird again. He mimed having long hair and swooning, then bared his teeth and bit his own hand.  
“Huh?”  
He did some more disgusting biting.  
“Is it about zombies..?” Keith tried.  
Lance shook his head, then moved closer to Keith, moved his head to one side and bit him gently on the neck. Keith shuddered at the touch of bare teeth against his skin, Lance’s hot breath giving him goosebumps. He pulled back rapidly, his face beet red.  
“Vampire?” he sounded breathless.  
Lance nodded, then batted his eyes at him again.  
“Five seconds,” Pidge warned.  
Lance looked desperate. “Vampire… Interview with a Vampire?” Keith tried.  
Lance made a heart with his hands.  
“Vampires in love? Oh, Twilight!”  
“Time!”

His answer was shouted at the same time as Pidge’s conclusion, but they decided to give them the point anyway since there was no way they would beat Team Shallura.   
They now had 8 points, but Keith didn’t care anymore. He could still feel the place where Lance’s mouth touched his skin. He sat silently, watching Shay attempt to portray what was clearly the Matrix, but he wasn’t really there. _It was nothing_ , he kept telling himself in his head. But why did his whole body feel like it was on fire? Why did he secretly enjoy it? Why did he want to bury his fingers in Lance’s hair and pull his head up to kiss him on the lips? No. He had no right to think about it. _It was nothing, it was nothing, it was nothing._  
Shay and Hunk had 10 points, and they were content.  
_It was nothing._  
Allura tied her hair back this time. When her one minute was up she was red in the face but satisfied with their grand total of fourteen points. They didn’t even need to go beyond 9 to escape the forfeit, and beyond 11 to win, but Allura seemed to enjoy being impressive.

Keith and Lance stood in the kitchen with an expression of horror on their faces while the others poured ketchup into the blender on top of orange juice, lettuce, half a muffin with a questionable expiration date and a piece of pastrami. Keith wondered when they managed to finish the first bottle of vodka. Shiro and Keith weren’t drinking, but he had the suspicion that the amount stored in Pidge’s body was enough for three people. When their forfeit beverage was ready, Lance screamed before taking one sip, then spitting it into the sink. Keith, however, looked Pidge dead in the eye, gulped down the entire glass, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and said “fuck you” before slamming the glass back on the table.

There was a brief debate over whether they should watch a movie or not. Half of them had seen it before, but they wanted to see it again. Keith hadn’t seen it, and by the end of the night he still wasn’t able to tell what it was called or what it was about. They settled in the living room again. Shiro, Allura and Pidge took the couch. Shay took a seat in the armchair. Hunk, Keith and Lance brought some pillows and got comfortable on the floor.

Keith was a little tired by that point, but his whole body was alert. It was just like sleeping with Lance in the same bed again, he was way too aware of the little space between them. It wasn’t helpful that Lance was apparently very comfortable with touch. One of his legs was draped over Hunk’s knees and he leaned his back on Keith’s left side. Keith’s attention was caught by anything but the movie. He saw Shay reaching to play with Hunk’s hair, which he didn’t seem to mind. He saw Lance picking at a loose thread at the hem of his jacket. He saw Pidge’s leg bouncing out of the corner of his eye. He was getting anxious again, and he considered getting up and pretending to go to the bathroom just to take a break from this. For fifteen minutes or so he tried to tell himself to actually do it. He kept thinking “oh no, they’re laughing at the joke now, I’ll wait until they’re done laughing” or “oh, Allura wants to explain this part of the movie. I’ll just wait for her to finish”, and “okay, just do it now. Just do it. Just say you’re going to the bathroom. You don’t have to announce it, just say it normally. Say it.”

But he didn’t say it. And then Lance’s head dropped onto his shoulder and he knew that his opportunity was gone. He was not going to move a single muscle now. And as Lance got comfortable on his shoulder, he had to keep reminding himself that he shouldn’t think about what happened earlier and that nothing happened anyway.

 _It was nothing_.

By the time the movie was over Lance had almost dropped into Keith’s lap. Pidge was asleep, so they decided not to turn on the lights. Allura and Shay had to work early the next day, so they had to leave. Shiro offered them a ride, and the three of them thanked everyone for the lovely evening before they left.

“I don’t want to wake them,” said Keith as he put on his jacket, “they look so sweet when they’re asleep. So quiet.”  
“Then don’t,” Lance said.  
“If I had a car, I’d totally carry them to the backseat and then straight to bed,” Keith said, “unfortunately, I have a Death Machine, as you called it, and they’ll need to be awake for that ride.”  
“No, I mean it,” Lance said, “just don’t wake them. Stay here. You already have a toothbrush in our bathroom, what does it matter? You can get home in the morning.”

Before Keith even had the time to think about it, Hunk already appeared with a blanket to cover up Pidge on the couch. It seemed like a solid idea, and Keith didn’t really want to drive while being so tired anyway, so he followed Lance to the bedroom.

When Keith came out of the bathroom, changed into Lance’s sweatpants, he found Lance waiting for him. He seemed like he wanted to talk about something, but he remained silent while Keith climbed into bed. Once he settled by the wall, he couldn’t ignore Lance’s stare anymore. “What?” he asked.  
“Are you okay?” Lance sounded like he was being careful.  
“Yes,” Keith shrugged, “why are you asking?”  
“You weren’t okay at first,” Lance reminded him, “and you went kind of… Quiet. Did I make you uncomfortable? I was teasing you, but if it really makes you uncomfortable – “  
“It’s not that,” Keith interrupted him, “don’t worry, you didn’t… I know you were just playing.” Saying it stung. He’d been repeating the words “it was nothing” in his head for hours, but saying it out loud was painful confirmation. It was not nothing. It was nothing for Lance, clearly, but to him it was something, and he was going to have to face it sooner or later.

“Good,” Lance nodded, “because I don’t want you to… I know you keep quiet a lot. I know you don’t say when something bothers you. But if I’m the thing that bothers you, please let me know. I know you’ve told me you hate me quite a few times, but I thought you were joking – “  
“I was joking,” Keith interrupted again, taken aback by the serious and rather hurt tone of Lance’s voice, “don’t get me wrong, you’re a major source of annoyance in my life, but I don’t hate you.”  
“You don’t?”  
“No,” Keith shook his head, “we’re friends, right? Aren’t we friends? We didn’t spend almost a month in each other’s bodies for noting.”  
“Yeah, you’re right,” Lance nodded, “we’re friends. Of course we’re friends. I just… You stopped calling, and you were so appalled by the idea of pretending to date me…”

Keith felt guilty again, but it was a different kind of guilt. He was so wrapped up in his own anxiety that he never thought about Lance’s feelings.   
“I’m sorry,” he said, “I just thought… I thought that you wouldn’t want to talk to me anymore. I don’t know why. And today wasn’t about you. I just hate pretending, and lying to my brother feels… Feels like I’m back in high school, you know?”  
Lance nodded. “I’m sorry, Keith,” he said, “I feel like it’s all my fault. I was trying to make tonight more fun and easy by flirting with you, but I guess I only made it worse.”  
“Excuse me,” Keith pulled himself up on his elbow to get a better look at Lance’s face, “you thought that all of your – your torturous behavior was going to help?”  
“Well, yes,” Lance shrugged, “maybe I wasn’t reading your reactions right. I thought you were having fun with it too. You keep getting adorably flustered and trying to hide a smile – “  
 “I don’t get 'adorably flustered',” Keith argued, “only annoyed and murderous.”

“Oh, please,” Lance rolled his eyes, “making you blush is so easy. I winked at you today and even that was enough.”  
“It’s not - I'm not flustered, and I don't blush,” he lied, “you just catch me by surprise sometimes.”  
“Yeah, right,” Lance’s smile was teasing, “you’re just an innocent little boy who can’t even talk about jerking off without blushing.”  
“Anyone would react the same way,” Keith told him, “this is how people react in uncomfortable, annoying situations when they aren’t expecting them. If I started cooperating, I bet you’d freak out too. I bet it’s even easier to get a reaction out of you, your face is ridiculously expressive.”  
“Thank you,” Lance told him, “I’ll take that as a compliment. But no, it’s impossible to catch me by surprise. I’m a witch, remember? A seer. I’m never surprised. I’m also not 12 years old, so I don’t turn into a blushing bride when a cute boy winks at me.”

Keith couldn’t explain the fire that these words lit in him. He could not explain why he always had the urge to prove this guy wrong, why he wanted to argue with him, and say “I told you so”, and feel like he’d won. But he wasn’t thinking about all that, because the urge was too strong to resist, and he was pulled into action.  
It took him exactly one second to pull himself up, throw one of his legs over Lance’s hips, straddling him the way he would his motorcycle. He caught Lance’s wrists before he had the chance to react and lowered his head to be just close enough without touching him. And it worked. Lance looked up at him frozen, cheeks burning, eyes bewildered, as if the wind was knocked out of his lungs.  
“Impossible to catch by surprise _my ass_ ,” Keith whispered to him, “look at you, that expression is precious.”  
Lance visibly did his best to look casual. “Ha,” he said, “I was just pretending to make you feel better. I’m not bothered at all.”  
“Not at all?” Keith smiled. He released one of Lance’s hands to press two fingers to his throat. Right there, he could feel Lance’s pulse racing for dear life.   
“Liar,” Keith told him, “I rest my case.”  
With that, he released Lance completely and climbed back into his corner by the wall.

“That was unfair,” Lance told him.  
“How was that unfair?”  
“We’re in a bed, I’m in a vulnerable position.”  
“Now you’re just grasping at straws. Just admit it, Lance, anyone can look flustered when they’re caught by surprise.”  
“I will admit nothing.”

They were quiet for a while, and Keith took it as a hint that they should finally go to sleep. He turned his back on Lance and wished him goodnight.  
“Keith?” Lance said after a few moments of silence.  
“Yeah?”  
“Does it mean that I can just call you sometimes, like a normal person, and you won’t be mad at me?”  
Keith wanted to reply with sarcasm, or to give him a snide remark. He wanted to say something like “as long as you’re not calling about something incredibly annoying”, but he didn’t. Instead he answered with honesty.  
“I’d like that.”

He heard some shuffling from Lance, but he said nothing else. Keith fell asleep that night, and his anxiety remained quiet for a change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading <3


	8. Lonely Souls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith may not be in a witch's body anymore, but his journey in the world of ghosts and magic is not over yet.

It’s been over two weeks since that one nice evening they all spent together, and things seemed to get better. Shiro was now a frequent visitor at Altea, and Keith pretended not to know that he was definitely not there just to “see his little brother”. Allura didn’t talk to him about it, but now that he knew where to look, he could not help but notice the way she looked at Shiro with affection.

Lance was the first one to make contact after that talk they had in bed, but he didn’t call. He texted. And they never stopped. Keith found himself smiling at the most trivial things – Lance sending him a picture of cute kitten-shaped pancakes Hunk had made for him, or Lance telling him about a very strange customer who was convinced that his coffee mug was haunted (it wasn’t), or even Lance simply saying good morning, even though Keith woke up about 5 hours prior to that.

And, without realizing, Keith started talking to Shiro about Lance. A lot. It started out as complaining, but sometimes Keith would just show Shiro a selfie Lance had sent him, saying “look at this idiot. What a dork,” in a voice that was more affectionate than he’d like to admit. Shiro always replied with something like “I’m glad you’re dating him,” or “it’s great to see that he makes you so happy”. This always left Keith with some bitterness in his heart, and he wasn’t so sure that it was about lying to Shiro anymore.

 

One evening, Lance was getting ready for the last client of the day. The guy, who was one of his regulars, texted him to say that he was going to be late, which was fine by Lance since he had nothing else planned for that day. He was surprised when the doorbell rang, therefore, a couple of minutes after he received the text.   
He opened the door, confused, and he had a strong sense of déjà vu. Shiro was standing there, his eyes wide at the sight of Lance’s dress, his lips pressed tight together.   
“Shiro?” Lance felt suddenly dizzy with dread, “what’s going on?”  
“Hi, Lance, do you have a minute?” this wasn’t a question. Once again, Shiro invited himself in without waiting for Lance’s reply. Lance closed the door after him and followed him into the living room.  
“Is everything okay?” Lance asked, suddenly worried, “is Keith okay?”

“Yes, don’t worry,” Shiro reassured him, “I’m just here to talk. What on Earth are you wearing?”  
“My professional attire. Do you like it?” Lance smiled at him, twirling a little to show the way it shimmered in the light.  
“Sure,” Shiro said, “but, uh, are you working right now? Am I interrupting?”  
“Not at all, my client is late,” Lance smiled, “we have a few minutes. Would you like something to drink?”  
“No, I want to make this quick,” said Shiro, “come sit with me.”

Lance sat down on the couch beside him, his whole body on edge. A thousand things went through his mind. What if he found out that they were lying? What if he doesn’t like him? What if he wants him to never see Keith again?  
“It’s time for us to have the talk,” said Shiro.  
“The talk?”  
“The talk.”  
“Do you mean, uh,” Lance cleared his throat, “about the birds and the bees? That kind of talk?”  
“What? No! I mean the ‘what are your intentions with my brother’ talk. Why would I give you the sex talk? I’m not your father.”  
“Well, it sounded like you are. Wait, are you here to threaten me?”  
“Yes,” Shiro sounded way too serious, “absolutely. You know the deal. If you ever, ever hurt Keith, I will scoop your eyes out with a spoon, and I will – “  
“Whoa whoa whoa,” Lance stopped him, his voice high pitched with panic, “Shiro, buddy, why would I – why would you need to have this talk with me? Look, Keith isn’t even that serious about me. He doesn’t even consider me his boyfriend, right? There’s really no need for these kinds of threats at this point.”  
“You’re not his brother,” Shiro said, “I know him. I’ve seen him date before – he never talked to me about it. I can see that you’re different. So much so that he felt the need to open up to me about this for the first time, and I need to know that you’re serious about it too.”

Lance felt terrible about this. Shiro was so, so wrong. No, Keith did not want to talk about it. It wasn’t even real. The only reason Shiro thought that was because Lance was in Keith’s body at the time and he talked about himself. Keith didn’t deserve any of this. But what could he say? He couldn’t tell him that his intentions weren’t serious, Shiro would break his face for that. Lance did what seemed like the most reasonable thing to do.  
“Of course I’m serious about it,” he said, his voice sincere, “Shiro, I really like him, I do. And I want it to be a relationship, you know? A real, long term thing. But… I don’t think he feels the same way.”  
“Don’t be stupid, I just told you he’s never acted like this before. You make him happy.”  
“Right,” this was incredibly painful, “sure. I just wish he let me see that too, you know?”  
“Well, actually,” Shiro seemed to light up all of a sudden, “I have an idea. I didn’t come here just to scare you straight.”  
“You can scare me all you want, but it's never going to get me _straight_ ,” Lance joked.  
“Oh for fuck’s sake," Shiro rubbed the bridge of his nose, "well, I walked right into that one, I guess. Anyway, I was thinking… I want us all to go on a trip for a few days.”

“Us all?”  
“Yes. Keith, you, Hunk and Shay, Pidge…”  
“Allura…”  
“Yes, I guess, Allura too,” Shiro tried to seem nonchalant, but Lance could see right through him.  
“What kind of trip?”  
“A camping trip.”  
“You want Keith to go on a camping trip? With people? For a few days?”  
“I know it seems unlikely,” said Shiro, “but we’ve done this before. We used to go camping all the time when we were younger. He loved it.”  
“He did?”  
“Well, he loved parts of it. He likes s’mores. Anyway, I think it’d be good for him. And for the two of you as a couple, too. If Keith is still on the fence on making your relationship an official thing, this camping trip would surely convince him otherwise, right?”  
Lance couldn’t help but suspect that Shiro wasn’t really talking about Keith. He was hoping that Allura would finally see him as a potential romantic interest. Still, he knew the things Shiro didn’t know, and this seemed like a very bad idea.  
“Does Keith know about this?”  
“No, and he can’t know,” Shiro placed a heavy hand on his shoulder, not threatening but warning, “I want this to be a surprise. I think we should go in a few weeks, once I figure out my schedule, for a nice weekend in the woods. But I need to know that you’re on board with this first. What do you say?”

Lance thought about it. The answer seemed obvious. He should tell Shiro that it was a bad idea, that he didn’t want to be a part of this trip. It was an easy decision, except… Except Shiro said something about this trip being a magical opportunity for Keith to realize things. Lance would never admit it, not in a million years, but a fantasy was brewing in his mind. A wild, unrealistic fantasy. For a split second he could see the campfire, the starry night, the tent. He could see them sharing s’mores and sitting close together to stay warm. And maybe, just maybe, he could see Keith seeing him in a different light. Like a fool, Lance let hope enter his heart, and he did something that was against all logic.

“Yeah, I’m in,” he told Shiro, “but are you sure you want to make this a surprise? You know Keith better than me, but I have a feeling that he would hate you forever for a surprise like this.”  
“The key is to let him know only a few days in advance,” Shiro informed him, “that way he has a few days to mentally prepare himself, but it’s not so much time that anxiety would eat him alive and make him lock himself up in a room for 9 days. Believe me, it’s been a long process of trial and error.”  
“You know best, I guess,” Lance shrugged. Shiro was about to say something else, but there was a knock on the door and Lance had to put on the “Blue Lion” persona for his next client. Shiro went to hide in the kitchen while Lance greeted the client, and by the time they were finished, Shiro was out of there.

* * *

 

Keith was having a very bad day. He had a day off work since he was working the weekend that week, and he was unable to get out of his bed. Pidge tried to check on him, but they were at work and couldn’t help much. He spent most of the day asleep, finally forcing himself out of bed when Pidge came home. He decided that a change of scenery might make him feel better, so he put his jacket on and walked out to the kitchen.

“Where are you going?” Pidge asked him, holding a spoonful of Nutella with nothing to spread it on.  
“On a hike,” Keith shrugged. Pidge dropped their spoon. It hit the floor with a disgusting sound and they both winced.  
“Oh, look what you’ve done,” Pidge mourned over the waste of Nutella, “now I have to clean. You know, I don’t think we’ve cleaned the floors since Lance was in your body. You should bring him over to clean sometimes. I’m sorry, you’re going on a what now?”  
“A hike,” Keith repeated, “I need to... Think about stuff.”  
“Outside?” Pidge raised their eyebrows, “in the middle of the day? Where there are people?”  
“It’s a fairly secluded location, I can find a quiet corner there.”  
“OUTSIDE?” Pidge repeated dramatically, “what’s gotten into you?”  
“Come on, I go outside sometimes,” Keith argued.  
“You don’t even take out the trash because you don’t want to bump into our neighbors by accident.”  
“They’re not very nice people! Anyway, see you later.”  
“Wait, Keith, did you eat anything?” Pidge called after him.  
“Not hungry,” he said before closing the door behind him.

A lecture from Pidge was the last thing he needed. He took his motorcycle to the mountains not far outside the city. It’d been a very long time since he last visited that place, or since he last willingly went outside – Pidge was right about that, but he still remembered the path they used to take when Shiro wanted to spend quality bro time with him. Keith walked with a destination in mind. There was a small spot slightly off the path with a nice view, and since it was nearly sunset, he thought it could be a nice spot for him to think. As he walked, he tried to break down what was going on.

This kind of depressive episodes wasn't new to him. In fact, it was a miracle that he managed to force himself out of the house in this condition. There wasn’t a reason for it, this is just how depression works sometimes. However, he couldn’t deny that there was something bothering him. He tried to push these thoughts away, but it was unavoidable. He could not stop thinking about Lance, and it was getting dangerous. At night, before falling asleep, when he let his mind roam to take him to the land of dreams, he let himself fantasize. He thought about that night he spent in Lance’s bed, when he pinned him down to surprise him. He thought about how easy it would have been for him to lower his face just a tiny bit more, to brush his lips against Lance's. He remembered, too, the brief touch of Lance’s mouth against his neck, a memory that sent countless needles to prick his skin and set him on fire. In this state between reality and sleep, he could let himself think about those things. In the morning, he felt guilty.

He was angry at himself. He wasn’t the best at making friends, and he had practically no one apart from Pidge. And now, here he was, finally making some new friends he liked, and he just had to go and fuck everything up. Why would he do that? Why would he go ahead and develop a crush on someone he had no hope to be with? These thoughts tortured him.

Keith finally reached that place he remembered from nice, heart-to-heart conversations with Shiro. They were mostly Shiro’s attempt to get him to open up more, and they were mostly unsuccessful, but sometimes they talked about their family or nothing in particular and it was easy, lighthearted and fun.

This time didn’t feel anything like that. He sat down on the ground, his legs dangling over the edge of the cliff, to watch the sunset, waiting for his heart and lungs to calm down. And as he watched the sky burn with reds and yellows, he felt incredibly lonely. Of course he knew that there were people in his life who loved him. He had wonderful parents and a caring brother; he had Pidge, who would drop everything to be there for him if he needed; he even had Lance, who turned out to be a surprisingly better friend than he had expected. Hunk, too, even though they rarely had conversations, was a great presence in his life. Yet sitting there, Keith was overwhelmed with the feeling that no one could truly understand him. That nobody, not even Lance, who had _been_ him for a few weeks, really knew him. It brought tears to his eyes, and a strange pain in his chest, and he hated that feeling a whole lot. Then he heard a voice.

“You look sad”, it said.

He looked up, wiping the tears from his blurry eyes, to see a girl standing in front of him. Except she wasn’t really standing, she was -   
“You’re a ghost,” he said, surprised to hear his own voice so broken.   
She didn't look like a ghost. She was just a regular girl, a pretty face and bows in her hair, but she was floating the same way he'd seen Coran float.  
“Why are you so sad?” she asked, ignoring his observation.  
“I’m not sad,” even Keith wasn’t convinced by his own words, “it’s just one of those days. It happens.”  
“No, you’re sad,” the girl insisted, “and it hurts you. You need help.”  
“I’m okay,” he reassured her, “don’t worry about me. It hurts just a little, and then it will go away.”

“Will it?” she asked, genuinely curious, “are you sure? This kind of pain never goes away.”  
“No, it does,” Keith insisted, “I felt it before. Many times, really. It stopped.”  
“How can you say that it stopped, if you feel it right now? It goes away for a while, but it always comes back. It always comes back stronger than before.”  
Keith had the feeling that this wasn’t about him anymore. She came to sit next to him, looking into the distance, seemingly lost in thought. He felt a little uncomfortable with the girl, but she didn’t seem hostile. Still, he had no experience with hostile ghosts, since Lance’s career consisted mostly of dead grandmothers and past lovers. He didn’t know what to expect.

“What’s your name?” he asked her. She didn’t answer, she just looked at him. But he already knew her name. He didn’t know how, but he had a strong feeling that this girl was called Lucy. She looked back at the view, peeking over the edge of the cliff at the long way down.  
“Did you come here to jump?” she asked him then.  
Something cold creeped up Keith’s spine. He felt slightly nauseous. “No,” he told her, “I don’t want to die.”  
“Are you sure?” she asked him, “have you ever wanted to die?”  
“Yes,” Keith answered honestly, “sometimes the pain feels unbearable. But it goes away, and those times when it’s gone are worth it.”  
Lucy didn't seem convinced. Soemthing told him that she was speaking from experience, and that it would be impossible to change her mind.  
“Who hurt you?”   
Keith didn’t answer. He wasn’t in pain because someone had hurt him. It just happened sometimes, and he didn’t know how to explain that to Lucy. She seemed to interpret his silence differently, however.  
“I can help,” she told him, “if you show me who hurt you. I can help.”  
Keith decided that he’d had enough creepy ghost encounters for one day, so he politely said goodbye to Lucy and got up on his feet. The sky was getting darker, with the last pinks and purples of the sunset accompanying him down the mountain. It was completely dark by the time he came down, but he felt a sense of comfort as he walked back to his motorcycle. He couldn't shake away the feeling that Lucy was still with him, but it didn't feel as creepy now that he didn't see her there. He just felt as if there was someone beside him, and this feeling was strangely soothing.

He came back to find Pidge playing video games in the living room. “Back so soon?” they asked him.  
“It’s been more than three hours,” Keith informed them.  
“Felt like five minutes,” they shrugged, “want to join me?”  
“No, I want coffee.”  
“Make some for me too,” they told him. He didn’t need to answer for them to know that he was going to do it.

When he walked back to the living room with two cups of coffee, Pidge smiled at him.  
“Well, did your little hike help?”  
“I don't know.”  
“Do you want to talk about it?”  
“Nothing to talk about.”  
“How about your crush on Lance?”  
“What?” Keith almost dropped his cup with surprise.  
“Careful there, I’ve cleaned enough floors for today. What are you acting all surprised for? It’s really obvious.”

“I don’t like him that way.”  
“I may need glasses, but I’m not blind."  
"Just drop it," Keith told them, "there's nothing there. And even if there was, it would be hopeless."  
"Keith, you're a fucking idiot."  
At that moment, a thin scratch appeared on Pidge’s cheek. They yelped and dropped the controller, covering their cheek with their hand. “What the hell?”  
Keith was confused for a moment, but then he saw something reflected in the window, and his heart dropped to his stomach. “Lucy?”  
“Who the fuck is Lucy?”  
“Just a ghost I met today,” Keith said, “why would she..? Oh, god, Lucy, no. They’re not hurting me, they’re my friend.”  
“You have a pet ghost who attacks people for calling you an idiot?” Pidge seemed half angry, half impressed.  
“It’s not like that,” Keith said, “oh no, this is not good. We need to solve this.”  
“Well,” Pidge smiled, “lucky for you, your boyfriend is a witch who specializes in ghosts.”  
“Fake boyfriend,” Keith corrected them, “and I don’t think it would be a good idea for me to introduce him to Lucy.”  
“Why not?”  
“How long did it take you to call me an idiot? Fifteen minutes? Now think how long it’s going to take Lance.”  
“Well, he deserves a bit of a spook, if you ask me.”  
“We don’t know how dangerous she is.”  
“He’s a witch,” Pidge reminded him, “this is his specialty. I’m sure he can handle it. Well, do you have any other ideas as to how to get rid of your ghost friend?”

Keith sighed loudly. He got up from the couch and grabbed his jacket again. Then he stopped.  
“How do I make sure she comes with me?”  
“Pretty sure you’re the thing she’s attached to,” Pidge said, “is that how ghosts work?”  
“I don’t know,” Keith shrugged, “um, Lucy? Would you… Would you come with me please?”  
He felt a slight shiver which he took for confirmation and went out. He texted Lance on his way to the motorcycle, simply stating that he’s about to come over, not warning him that he had a ghost with him.

This was not a good idea. When Lance opened the door, he greeted him with “hey there, handsome, missed me so much that – holy shit, what the fuck did you bring to my house?”  
“Can you see her?” Keith asked. He wasn’t able to see Lucy since he left the mountain, only in slight glimpses, and it was really annoying.  
“No,” Lance said, “but I can feel it, and it’s nasty. What is that?”  
“I made friends with a ghost,” Keith shrugged, “her name is Lucy. I think she needs help.”  
“Right,” Lance blinked at him, “okay. I guess this is just something that we do now. All right then, let’s step into the Ghost Room. Fuck! I mean the workroom. Hunk needs to be stopped.”

Keith laughed, but he followed Lance into the familiar Ghost Room.   
“Aren’t you going to change into your Blue Lion attire?” Keith teased, looking away from Lance’s sweatpants-clad ass.  
“Ha ha, making fun of my persona, very original,” Lance said.  
“Maybe I just want to see you in a skirt again,” Keith took a risk with this teasing comment, hoping Lance would take it as a mocking one. He did.  
“Oh, wow,” he said, “fuck you, Keith, you know, you don’t have to – ouch!”  
He covered his cheek with his hand, and Keith didn’t need to see it to know that there was a scratch there.

“Come on, Lucy, we talked about this,” Keith said. Then Lucy appeared in the corner of the room.  
“He hurt you,” she said.  
“No, he didn’t,” Keith assured her, “it was just a joke. We’re friends.”  
“No,” Lucy seemed more upset than before, “he hurt you, I know. I can see.”  
Keith had the feeling that Lucy knew more than he was willing to admit, so he attempted to change the subject.  
“So how do we solve… This?” he asked Lance.

Lance, who watched him very carefully for some reason, looked concerned.  
“Lucy,” he said as he slowly opened the cupboard to take out some candles, “can you tell us what happened to you?”  
“I saw a sad boy,” she said, “sad, like me. He is hurt, but I can help.”  
Lance glanced at Keith, concern in his eyes, but he said nothing as he set the candles on the table. He proceeded to take out some herbs. Keith read enough of the grimoire to know that Lance was getting ready to banish Lucy, and for some reason, it stung.   
All of a sudden, Lucy froze. Keith could see fire lighting up in her eyes, she seemed furious.

“You are trying to get rid of me,” she said, her voice raising, “I won’t let you hurt the boy.”  
With that, she picked up the nearest object, which happened to be the small lamp in the corner, and threw it at Lance’s head. He ducked, but the lamp still caught him by the shoulder, knocking him back a few steps.  
“Lance!” Keith stepped forward, but he realized that the best way to help Lance would be to deal with Lucy. He turned around to face her.   
“He’s not hurting me,” Keith told her, “he’ll never hurt me, Lucy. You’re hurting me.”  
Lucy seemed offended by that. Keith could see Lance out of the corner of his eye, using the distraction to light the candles.  
“You were alone,” Lucy told him, “I know how you felt on that cliff. I felt that too. I was alone, too. I don’t want you to end up… Like me.”  
“I won’t,” Keith reassured her, “I’m not alone. I have friends.”

At that moment, Lance finished the ritual and the room filled up with smoke from the small pile of ingredients he burned. Lucy hissed with what seemed like pain, but she remained intact.  
“Why isn’t it working?” Keith asked.  
Lance looked up, an expression of dread on his face, “it won’t work if she still has attachments.”  
“Like what?” Keith asked, although he already knew the answer.  
“You,” Lance said, “you need to let her go.”  
“I’m not holding her.”  
“You are,” Lance insisted, “let her go.”  
Lucy came back to her senses then, and she was furious. For the first time, Keith was properly scared of her. Her rage was focused on Lance. She flew forward, knocking into Lance, pinning him to the wall.  
“No, Lucy, stop!” Keith launched himself forward, but Lucy was quicker than him. She raised her hand, and a dagger that lay in a glass case on one of the shelves flew into it. She drew the dagger back, and Keith’s heart was seized with panic.

“Leave him alone!” he screamed at the top of his lungs. Lucy froze, the dagger still in the air, and turned her head to look softly at Keith.  
“He wants me to go away,” she told him.  
“I want you to go away,” Keith said.  
“But if I go away,” she pleaded, “who will protect you?”  
“He will,” Keith said, breathless with fear, “he is trying to protect me right now, from you. He can protect me.”  
Lucy stared at him for a long moment, as if his words made no sense. Then she turned back to Lance.  
“Will you protect him?” she asked him quietly, almost too quiet for Keith to hear.  
“I will, if you let me,” Lance answered with the same quiet tone.  
She leaned in then and whispered something into Lance’s ear. Keith couldn’t hear what she was saying, but his whole body was tense with fear. Lance nodded at her with understanding. She let go of Lance then and turned around to look at Keith. He could see tears in her eyes.   
“Let him help,” she told Keith, “you didn't let me help, so at least let him.” And then, just like that, she disappeared. The dagger fell to the floor, the sound heavy against the sudden silence in the room.

Keith felt very nauseous all of a sudden. The moment she disappeared, his heart was filled with grief. Lance caught his tortured look and moved closer to him.  
“Hey,” he said, placing a hand on his shoulder, “how are you?”  
Keith shook his head, as if trying to shake the thoughts out of it, then he moved closer to look at Lance’s shoulder. Blood stained his shirt at his collar bone. He reached up with warm fingers to move the fabric away and look at the wound. “You’re hurt,” he said, “we need to take care of this.”  
“It’s just a scratch,” Lance protested, but Keith ignored him. He walked out of the room and into the bathroom, Lance following him in silence.

“Can we talk about what happened, or..?” he asked hesitantly as Keith opened the cupboard where he knew he would find the first aid kit.  
“Take off your shirt,” he said, ignoring the question. Lance obeyed, tossing his shirt into the laundry basket and sitting down on the edge of the bathtub. Keith soaked a bandage in water to wash away the blood first. Lance shivered as the cold, wet bandage met his skin. Water dripped down his torso, but he didn't complain. With the blood now gone, Keith could see that the wound really wasn’t as bad as it seemed at first. Lance was right, it was just a scratch from where the lamp broke the skin a little, but Keith’s terrible guilt made it feel a lot worse. He cleaned the wound and picked a large band aid to cover it.   
“Now that we’re all alive and well,” Lance said after patiently waiting for Keith to finish, “can we talk?”  
Keith was about to protest, but then Lance’s phone rang.   
“It’s Pidge,” Lance said after glancing at the screen, “just a second.”

Lance walked out of the bathroom to talk to Pidge, and Keith put the first aid kit back in the cupboard. His hands were still shaking, and he closed his eyes to take a deep breath and urge himself to calm down.  
“Come on,” said Lance as he peeked in through the door once he ended the call, “we have some leftover lasagna.”  
“I’m not hungry,” Keith lied.  
“I don’t care. Hunk makes the best lasagna in the world, and it’s even better on the second day. We’re going to eat it, and then we’re going to talk. Come on.”

Once Lance put on a clean shirt, they sat down to eat some microwaved lasagna. Keith only realized just how hungry he was after the first forkful of lasagna entered his mouth. They ate in silence, enjoying the meal. When they finished eating, Keith waited patiently for Lance to wash the dishes before he joined him in the living room.

“Tell me about Lucy,” Lance said.  
“I’m sorry I brought her here,” Keith started, “I put you in danger, it was a stupid thing to do.”  
“No, shut up,” Lance told him, “you did the right thing. Things like that get out of hand very quickly. You need to deal with it right away, and you came to me because I’m a professional. Now tell me how you met her.”  
“I was on a hike,” Keith said, “I stopped to watch the sunset. Then she appeared. She followed me home, Pidge called me an idiot, that didn’t end well.”  
“Why do you think she attached herself to you?” Lance asked, his voice soft. Keith winced at his gaze.  
“Don’t look at me like that,” he said, “I don’t want you to feel sorry for me. Fine, yes, I wasn’t feeling very well. Maybe she saw that, I don’t know. I don’t want to talk about it.”  
Lance seemed confused by this. “I don’t feel sorry for you,” he said, “I don’t think I’ll ever be sorry for you. Keith, this happens more often than you think. Some ghosts seek attachment, and they usually find companionship with people who are… In a vulnerable state.”  
“I didn’t ask her to do that,” Keith said, “I never wanted her to hurt anyone.”  
“I know,” Lance nodded, “you don’t have to explain yourself. But… I need to ask you something, and I need you to answer honestly.”  
Keith said nothing.  
“Keith, Lucy said that she didn’t want you to end up like her. I think she meant…” Lance took a deep breath. “When you were… Watching the sunset. Were you thinking about – “  
“No,” Keith cut him off, shaking his head, “no, it wasn’t like that. I was in a bad place, sure. I felt lonely. But I meant it when I said that I’m not going to end up like her. I don’t want to die.”

“You scared the shit out of me,” Lance breathed out with relief and pulled him into a hug. Keith froze, slightly shocked by the straightforward show of affection. They’ve never hugged before, strangely enough, and this was new and confusing. Lance’s face was pressed against his shoulder and his arms squeezed him a little too tightly. Keith didn’t hug him back, but Lance didn’t seem to care.  
When he pulled back, he looked at Keith with surprising tenderness.   
“I don’t want you to feel lonely,” he said, “you know you can talk to me anytime, right? Whenever you need.”  
“I know,” Keith said.  
Lance finally let go of him. “I promised Lucy that I will protect you,” he said, “and I’m going to do just that. Thank you for saving my life, by the way.”  
“I was the one to put it in danger in the first place,” Keith said.  
“Hey, no,” Lance put a comforting hand on his arm, “don’t do that. You know what happens when we start looking for someone to blame, right? It turns out to be everybody’s fault. It was my fault for making her angry, and it was Lucy’s fault for not listening to you more carefully, and it’s probably somehow Pidge’s fault too because they are a menace and a danger to society in general. Fuck that. I say, it’s nobody’s fault. Something unfortunate happened, we got over it. We’re good now.”  
Keith nodded slowly at that. He felt a little relieved, although he was still rather shaken about everything that happened. He was about to thank Lance for everything and go, but then Lance took him by surprise.

“Stay here tonight,” he said.   
Keith looked at him, quiet, unsure why these words made his heart beat faster. This wasn’t new. This wasn’t out of the ordinary. Why did it sound so tender and sweet?  
“Why?” he ended up blurting out, realizing too late that it was not the right thing to say when someone invites you to stay over.  
“Because,” Lance shrugged, “you’re here, and it’s late, and there’s ice cream in the fridge. I even got a pint of your favorite in case you come by – who likes coffee flavored ice cream, by the way? You’re disgusting.”  
And just like that, the tenderness was gone. Still, Keith couldn’t help but smile.  
“You keep coffee flavored ice cream in your fridge just in case I come by?”  
“Shut up,” Lance said, but his smile was wider than Keith’s, “are you going to stay or not?”  
“Will you stop judging my taste in ice cream?”  
“Never. I am judging you very, very hard.”  
“You’re such a pain in the ass.”  
“Then I guess you’re a masochist,” Lance’s smile was infuriating, “because you really seem to like me. I’ll get the ice cream. Take off your jacket, will you? There’s no wind here, you weirdo.”

Keith took off his jacket, and Lance came back with the ice cream, coffee flavored for Keith and strawberry and chocolate for himself. Keith watched him play video games for a while, which was strangely comforting and helpful in distracting Keith from the bad thoughts.  
When they went to sleep that night, Keith didn't miss Lucy anymore.   
There was another comforting presence in his life, and he was content with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all so much for taking the time to read this fic <3


	9. Around the Campfire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time for some camping trip shenanigans.

“A camping trip?”  
“A camping trip!”  
“In nature? Outside?”  
“In nature! Outside!”  
“With tents and everything?”  
“With tents and everything!”  
“Pidge, please tell my brother that he is insane,” Keith turned to his friend, who was loudly slurping some noodle soup to his left.  
“Shiro,” they said once they’d swallowed, “you are insane. Do you really think that Keith, our dear angst-baby Keith, is going to willingly stay outside, socializing with human people and breathing in fresh air for a whole weekend? Wild. Absolutely outrageous.”  
“Come on,” Shiro pleaded, “we used to do this all the time when we were younger. Dad even taught you how to fish!”  
“Dad taught _you_ how to fish,” Keith reminded him, “I got freaked out the first time I touched a live fish and I’ve been watching you quietly from the shore ever since.”  
“It will be fun,” Shiro insisted, “we’ll make s’mores, we’ll tell spooky ghost stories – “  
Pidge choked on their soup.

“Please, no ghost stories,” Keith said, placing a soothing hand on Pidge’s back as they gasped for air.  
“Wow, I see your boyfriend really made you all rethink your stance on ghosts. Speaking of which, aren’t you excited to spend some time away with him?”  
“Huh,” Keith’s mind went elsewhere at that, “you’re hoping to get Allura to come with us too, aren’t you?”  
“Well, I mean, I invited her of course, but it’s up to her. I’m not going to pressure her into making any decisions that she may or may not – “  
“And Shay?”  
“Shay and Hunk are invited too.”  
“Do you really think Allura would leave the restaurant with two of her employees for the weekend?”  
“Ha, I knew you’d say that!” Shiro seemed excited, “but I talked to her. She says that she has a cousin who can come and take over for a few days, so she can make it.”  
“Wow, you thought about everything, haven’t you?”  
“Absolutely, you have nothing to worry about. I already talked to your boyfriend.”  
Keith blinked. “You talked to Lance?”

“Yes, we had a… A serious talk.”  
“Oh no,” Keith’s face paled at that, “what did you tell him?”  
“Relax, it was nothing embarrassing for you,” Shiro assured him in a calm, cheerful tone, “I just told him that if he ever breaks your heart, I’ll strangle him with his own intestines.”  
“Nice,” Pidge said and held up their hand for a high five, which Shiro was quick to give them.  
“No, no no, not nice at all,” Keith said, “you’re saying that Lance knew about the trip? And he said nothing?”  
“I am good at threatening people.”  
“I hate everything about this and there is no way I’m going on this stupid camping trip.”

And yet somehow Keith found himself a week later on his way to a camping trip with six people, one of which was his fake boyfriend, whom he had a very real attraction for. They split into two cars – Shiro’s car and the car Allura borrowed from her cousin. Hunk and Shay joined Allura, while Keith, Lance and Pidge piled into Shiro’s car. Pidge yelled “shotgun” before Lance had a chance to open his mouth, so Keith found himself sharing the backseat with his fake boyfriend.  
“No making out in the backseat,” Shiro joked as he started the car. Keith glanced at Lance, who was sitting all the way on the other side of the seat, and Lance wiggled his eyebrows at him. Keith rolled his eyes, but he smiled and turned away to look out the window.

Lance did a rather good job with keeping up the conversation with Shiro. Keith could relax against the window and tune their voices out, which was a relief, since he spent the entire week leading up to this trip stressed and anxious. When they arrived after a few long, exhausting hours, Keith realized something he hadn’t even considered before. They had a total of three tents between them. Allura’s tent could fit two people, and it was clear that she was going to share it with Shay. Shiro’s tent was slightly larger, so Keith assumed that he would share it with Pidge and himself. But before he knew it, Hunk joined Shiro and Pidge in setting up their tent, and Lance was calling him over.

“We’re sharing a tent?” Keith asked, stunned.  
“Yes, help me with this,” Lance said, trying to figure out how the different parts fit together, “I’m not good at math.”  
“I thought you’d share it with Hunk,” Keith crouched beside him, “and this has nothing to do with math – what are you doing? No, these two are supposed to form a cross at the top, like this. No, not like that – fuck, just give them to me.”  
“Wow, didn’t know you were a Tent Expert,” Lance huffed, “and why would I share a tent with Hunk when my boyfriend is here? That would be weird.”  
Keith didn’t comment on that. He set up the tent mostly by himself, with Lance pretending to be helpful by holding stuff when he was asked to do so. Once they were done, Shiro and Hunk began setting up the fire so they could eat dinner. Shay and Pidge went to gather some more wood for later, while Allura and Lance helped with the preparation of their food. Keith felt a little useless. He decided to go after Pidge and Shay, but he soon realized that he had no chance of catching up with them. He wandered alone for a while, getting more familiar with the surrounding area. He thought about his situation with Lance.

He couldn’t deny that a part of him only agreed to go on this stupid camping trip to spend more time with Lance. And yet a bigger part of him, the anxious part of him that kept telling him that he is a terrible person, made him feel very guilty about this. Lance didn’t deserve to be stuck with him on that trip. Sure, Lance was responsible for getting them into this fake relationship in the first place, but Shiro was his brother. He could tell him the truth a long time ago, but he didn’t. Why didn’t he? Why didn’t they tell everyone that they broke up right away, or decided to remain just friends? Keith was overwhelmed by these thoughts, and it seemed impossible to find the right course of action. He stopped walking, sat down on the ground right where he stood, and tried to weigh his options.

These were the facts: he had a crush on Lance, this crush was one sided, and they were both stuck in a fake relationship which hurt the both of them. The first and most logical thing to do, therefore, was to stop the lying and pretend to break up with Lance. However, a camping trip in the woods was hardly the right time and place to do so. He resolved, then, to keep up the pretense for the duration of the weekend, and talk to Lance about their fake relationship afterwards. This would put on hold anything else he might have to do about this crush. Later, he would have to face his feelings. Later, he would think about confessing or silently getting over Lance in his own way. For now, however, he would let himself have this crush. For now, he would let himself fantasize and look at Lance with wishful eyes. For now, it was safe, because it had an expiration date and he would have to deal with it later.

“Keith?” It was Allura’s voice. He turned around to see her calling for him. As he got up to approach her, she asked him why he wandered off alone, and said that Lance and Shiro were really worried about him.  
“Thought I’d find Pidge and Shay,” Keith said, “they’re too fast, apparently.”  
“They’re already back,” Allura told him, “come on.”  
“Lance was worried about me?” Keith asked, covering his stupid smile with a hand.  
“Are you still in that stage of your relationship where everything you do makes the other one giggle? It’s so adorable,” Allura told him as they both headed back.  
“I’m pretty sure it’s just me,” Keith shrugged, letting himself roll with the lies, “don’t tell Lance.”  
He didn’t see the way Allura shook her head, the slight eyeroll and the knowing smile.  


When they came back, the fire was roaring and the food was ready. They sat down together and ate. This part of the trip was nice, Keith had to admit. Food always tasted better when eaten by a campfire, the smell of the forest was comforting and reminded him of fun trips with their family, and the flames were enchanting to look at. Then Shay picked up her guitar and started singing, which made it even better. He was surprised by how talented she was, her voice was incredibly pleasant to his ears. Then he saw Hunk’s face, and his heart filled with warmth. Hunk watched her play as if she was the center of his universe. They weren’t officially together yet, but it was obvious to anyone who looked at them that they were deeply in love. Shay’s song, which was ridiculously romantic, was fully addressed to him even though she tried to smile at everyone.

Then Keith felt Lance’s fingers brush against his hand, the way they did that day at the restaurant. His heart fluttered for a brief moment. He turned to look at Lance’s face, and Lance gave him a reassuring smile. Keith took it to mean that Lance was checking on him, so he took Lance’s hand into his and squeezed it, letting him know that everything was fine. When the song was over, Pidge got up to their feet. “Well,” they said, “this was sweet and all, but it just dawned on me that I’m surrounded by a bunch of couples in love and I don’t like being outnumbered. So, I’m going to ruin this sweet romantic vibe you’ve got going on with booze and ghost stories. Hunk, help me with the vodka.”

Soon enough this nice circle of soft smiles and gentle songs turned into a drunk party about spooky stories. Pidge went first, and their stories were incredibly gory and disturbing. When Hunk tried to tell a story, he got attached to his characters halfway through and ended it abruptly with “and then they went home, and everyone was alive and well, the end”. Allura’s story was surprisingly chilling, especially when she prefaced it with “this is a real story my grandmother told me about her best friend”. They were all pretty much shaking by the end of it, but Lance seemed rather unconvinced.

“That’s not scary,” he said, “so what if this ghost accompanied her for so many years? It didn’t do any real harm.”  
“Have you missed the part where it killed 5 people?” Shay asked, half curled in Hunk’s lap for protection.  
“So what? They were bad people,” Lance shrugged, “hey, if someone hurt my daughter that way I’d kill them too. I can get behind that. I’m sorry, but this is not a spooky story, it’s just a sad one because of all the tragedies. Do you want to hear a real spooky story?”  
“Oh yes, tell them about that thing you once summoned by accident,” Hunk said, “man, that was scary. I slept at my aunt’s place for two weeks because our place was too scary.”  
“I don’t know,” Lance’s smile faltered for a split second, only noticeable to Keith since he was sitting so close, “I don’t think it’s a fun story.”  
“I kind of want to hear about that one,” Allura said.  
“Shiro’s not going to believe anything you say anyway,” Pidge chuckled.  
“Skepticism runs in the family, I see,” Lance joked.  
“I’ll try to suspend my disbelief,” Shiro said, “just tell us what happened.”

“All right,” Lance said, sitting up straight and clearing his throat. Keith let go of his hand then to give him more space for his dramatic performance. “It all started when I was still a novice. I was pretty good at certain things by then, and I already had quite a reputation, but there was one thing I was still unable to do. It was scrying.”  
“Oh, that’s really hard,” Keith said. He caught Shiro’s puzzled look, so he added “Lance told me a lot about it.”  
“Yes,” Lance said, “and as Keith knows, scrying can also be dangerous. And this story is a cautionary tale for young witches who aren’t careful, so listen up – there are safety procedures that I didn’t take seriously. Scrying is linked to meditation in a way, it’s really about knowing how to empty your mind, and that day I didn’t do it properly. So, I was gazing at this crystal ball, right, and I managed to reach that strange place in my mind where I’m neither here nor there, do you know what I mean?”

“Yes,” Keith said at the same time when everyone else said “no.” He realized then just how closer to Lance this experience had made him feel. He knew exactly what Lance was talking about, because he’d been to that place, he’d seen the mist, and he knew how it all felt. Nobody else in that circle knew.  
“It doesn’t matter,” Lance waved a hand at that, “the important part is, I didn’t do a cleansing ritual beforehand and my mind wasn’t clear. I ended up inviting something that I didn’t intend to invite. I didn’t even know this at the time, I just started feeling really bad. As in, physically ill. I felt nauseous and dizzy, so I put the ball down and walked away to wash my face. Bad move. I should’ve finished the ritual in the proper way. Next thing I know, Hunk is screaming in the kitchen.”  
Hunk took over the story then. “I was making tortillas,” Hunk said, attempting to lower his voice to the same dramatic tone Lance was using, “it was going pretty well, but then I knocked over a glass of water. I reached for some paper towels, but when I turned back to clean it up, it wasn’t water anymore. It was blood.”

Shay gasped, and Pidge murmured something that sounded like “what the hell”.  
“It wasn’t blood, not really,” Lance assured them, “when I ran into the kitchen I found Hunk pretty shaken up over a glass of water. I was confused.”  
“But I swear I was seeing blood,” Hunk told them, “I don’t know what that thing was or what it did to my mind at that moment, but it was very realistic. Then, just as Lance managed to calm me down and assure me that it was water – “  
“We heard footsteps in the living room,” Lance interrupted, “which was impossible, because we were all alone.”  
“Bullshit,” Shiro said, “it was probably just your mind playing tricks on you again. Or maybe it was your neighbors, and since you were both frightened, it sounded like it was in the apartment. Keith, back me up here.”  
But Keith knew what footsteps can sound like when there is a presence in the house. He heard it when he was in Lance’s body. Coran apologized later, but these sounds were very real and very creepy. “Sorry, Shiro,” Keith smiled at him, “what happened next?”

Lance was encouraged by his curiosity.   
“I grabbed a white candle, of course,” Lance said.  
“You went into the Ghost Room?” Pidge asked.  
“No, we have a stash of them in the kitchen,” Lance said.  
“They have white candles all over the place,” Keith added, “you open a random cupboard? Candles. You look under the couch because you dropped your phone? Candles. You mop the floor in the bathroom and look behind the toilet? You guessed it - Candles!”  
“Well, there’s a good reason for that,” Lance argued, “white candles are needed in most cleansing rituals. So, I grabbed the candle and walked into the living room, with Hunk closely behind me. Just as I lit the candle, the lamp in our living room exploded.”  
“Exploded?” Shiro raised his eyebrows.  
“It wasn’t even turned on,” Hunk said, “and it just shattered to tiny little pieces.”

“We ran out of the apartment,” Lance continued, “and we came back with a friend of mine who is a little more experienced. She performed a purifying ritual and we thought that everything was fine. Until it was time for us to go to sleep.”  
“I couldn’t sleep,” Hunk said, “it was too scary. And then I heard this… This wail. Like a human imitating a wounded animal, it was horrible. I packed a bag, told Lance that I couldn’t take this anymore, and went to crash on my aunt’s couch.”  
“I told him to go,” Lance added, “I was scared shitless and I didn’t want Hunk to get hurt. Hunk, don’t sell yourself short, you told me that you’d stay if I needed you to, but you also kind of considered getting a new apartment because you were so scared. I knew I’d have to face this alone. For two whole weeks I was stuck in Hell,” Lance took a deep breath, “I had no clients, no visitors, just me. Alone in the apartment with… Whatever that thing was. I tried different rituals, but every night was the same. It made me feel safe during the day, but the moment I closed my eyes at night, it would terrorize me. That trick it did with Hunk and the blood… Imagine opening your eyes to see everything – the walls, the ceiling, the floor, all of your possessions – covered in blood.”   
A shiver went down Keith’s spine, and judging by everyone’s faces, they were creeped out as well.

“I didn’t care much for the noises, I’m used to hearing footsteps and things dropping to the floor. But the screams were unbearable. That wailing, it was so painful. It was gut-wrenching, and it made me feel helpless. But all of these things were illusions. I would see things and hear things, sure. But there was little physical evidence of that thing. Apart from the exploded lamp in the living room and some of my clothes that it somehow managed to tear a little, it didn’t do much. Until, one day, I felt it.”  
“What do you mean you felt it?” Pidge asked, holding onto the stick they used to poke the fire with for dear life.   
“I woke up,” Lance said, “and I knew it was there with me. I didn’t see or hear anything, I just knew it was there. And then I felt something touching my shoulder,” he tapped his left shoulder, “and it was pressing down. Hard. I screamed and ran out of my bedroom. I wasn’t thinking, so I went into the workroom.”

“The what?” Shiro asked.  
“The – ugh, the Ghost Room," Lance rolled his eyes, "anyway, it was the wrong thing to do, since that room is very charged and all presences are stronger there. However, there was another presence which was stronger there.”  
“Coran?” Keith whispered.  
“Coran,” Lance smiled, “this is actually the story about how Coran saved my life. The Thing followed me into the room. My hands were shaking like crazy as I tried to find some good herbs to burn, but there was no way I could be quick enough. I felt it again, this time in my stomach,” he placed his palm on his stomach to illustrate, “and I felt sick again, as if it was trying to pull my insides out of my body. But then Coran appeared out of nowhere and told it to fuck off.”  
“He said that?” Keith smiled.  
“Well, not in so many words,” Lance admitted, “he actually yelled ‘you fiend, get away from my sweet boy!’ and then he did the ghost equivalent of punching it in the face. I still couldn’t see it properly, but I could see some sort of a dark shadow where it was supposed to be, and Coran just straight up jumped into it. They wrestled for a moment, which gave me an opening to reach for my herbs and candles. So I was chanting some ancient spell that I hadn’t tried yet, and Coran was tearing it into pieces from the inside. And we destroyed it. I could physically feel it when it finally left. I wasn’t even aware of how tired and sick I felt until that moment. I instantly felt better.”  
“It never bothered us since,” Hunk added, “but I had to get a nightlight because it got too spooky to fall asleep in my room.” Shay placed a comforting hand on his back, and he smiled at her with affection.

But Keith was more concerned about Lance. He knew the story, he read about it in the grimoire. The grimoire, however, described it in technical terms alone. There was a description of the mistakes in the cleansing rituals and an account of the final spell Lance used, but the terrors themselves weren’t described. Keith suddenly realized that despite being in Lance’s body and learning so much about him, he still knew next to nothing. It was clear, sitting there at that moment and looking at Lance’s face, that this story affected him more than he led to believe. But he never talked about it, and even at that moment by the fire, he instantly moved on to joking, attempting to lighten the mood. Something tightened in Keith’s stomach. He wanted to talk to him, to ask about his feelings. More than that, he wanted to protect Lance from the dangers of the world. Quietly, while everyone were distracted by another ridiculous story from Pidge, Keith took Lance’s hand into his again. Lance turned to look at him then. He held his gaze for a moment, trying to convey in his eyes that he knew there was more to this story than what he let them know about. Whatever Lance saw in his face, he hardly reacted to it. He squeezed his hand lightly and turned away again, giving Keith absolutely nothing to read into.

When Pidge finished their story, Hunk said that he felt creeped out and asked them to stop. Shay picked up the guitar again to play something soothing. The slow, romantic tunes soon turned into more upbeat music, and Keith found himself singing an acoustic version of “Never Gonna Give You Up” off tune along with everyone else. They all became pleasantly warm, giggling and swaying to the music. Once they all felt their eyelids getting heavier, they put out the fire and cleaned up the area before getting into their tents.

Even from within their tent, Keith could still hear Pidge’s loud cackling from Shiro’s tent nearby. He tried to ignore it as he took off his jacket. They didn’t bring sleeping bags because they had enough blankets to turn the tent into a semi-comfortable sleeping surface, but they didn’t think about pillows. They ended up using their bags and coats for pillows, and soon it was quiet enough for them to fall asleep. But Keith couldn’t fall asleep. He didn’t forget Lance’s face during his story.

“Why would you spend two weeks alone with that thing?” he said quietly, drawing Lance’s attention. Lance rolled over to look at him.  
“It was my fault,” he said, “I had to take care of it myself.”  
“Hunk would have stayed if you asked him,” Keith said, “even though he was scared.”  
“I know,” Lance nodded, “that’s why I insisted on him leaving. I didn’t know what that thing was capable of, I didn’t want to put him in danger.”  
“Hunk said he still can’t sleep sometimes,” Keith wondered, “but you were there for two whole weeks. How did you ever fall asleep after that?”  
“Sleeping pills,” Lance shrugged, “therapy, too. Lots of charms in my room, if you remember. Rituals, spells, anything I could think of. Sometimes it’s not enough. Some nights I can’t sleep, so I go and talk to Coran. Sometimes I go to sleep in Hunk’s bed. He’s very good at cuddling.”

“Does it help?” Keith asked, “doesn’t it make it worse? I mean, feeling someone’s hands touching you while you sleep, that must be…”  
“No, it’s comforting,” Lance told him, “you can’t compare. When that… When that Thing touched me, that was the most horrible feeling imaginable. It made me sick to my stomach. It’s nothing like human touch.”  
“Oh,” Keith said, “I didn’t think of it that way.”  
“I kind of regret telling you all that story,” Lance admitted, “especially right before we go to sleep, in a dark, small space. With Hunk in a separate tent, where I can’t reach him.”  
“Do you want me to turn on a flashlight?” Keith suggested.  
“It’s okay for now,” Lance told him, “your face is calming. Is that a weird thing to say? Your face is reassuring. It’s like, your eyes are very calm and you’re so… Grounded.”

“I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever told me,” Keith smiled.  
“Falsehood,” Lance pointed at him, “I recall complimenting you on your smoking hot body.”  
“Ah, yes,” Keith rolled his eyes, “how could I forget the greatest compliment of all.”  
“I’m still waiting to hear one back,” Lance teased.  
“Wow, okay, shut up,” Keith’s smile was a bit too wide now and he tried his best to suppress it.  
“I’m giving you so many opportunities,” Lance continued, “I wear skirts to show off my beautiful legs, I bat my eyelashes at you, and they are exceptionally long by the way, I even showed you some of my best dance moves.”  
“Oh my god, be quiet,” Keith smiled even wider and instinctively reached to press his palm against Lance’s mouth to shut him up. He expected retaliation, biting, attempts to escape. But Lance simply stared back at him with what strangely resembled anticipation.

“You’re insufferable,” Keith told him, “turn around.”  
His hand was still against Lance’s mouth, so he simply raised his eyebrows, confused.  
“Come on, roll over,” Keith let go of his mouth, “I can’t look at your smug face anymore.”  
Lance shrugged, but he obeyed and turned around. Keith moved closer to him, his hand hovering hesitantly over Lance’s arm. He poked him.  
“I know I’m not Hunk,” he whispered, “but I can make it less scary, if you want.”  
Lance was motionless for a moment. Then he reached to grab Keith’s hesitant hand and pressed it against his chest as a “yes”. Keith moved even closer and draped himself carefully around Lance, drawing the blanket over them and leaning his head against Lance’s back. “Goodnight,” he whispered.  
“Goodnight, Keith.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know how this started out as a body switching fic and now we're at a camping trip with some tent sharing and a fake relationship on top... but I'm definitely not done with the cheesy tropes :)  
> thank you for reading <3


	10. Carry Me to Safety

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the second day of the camping trip, but things can never just go smoothly, can they?

Keith woke up to the sound of someone attempting to unzip their tent and curse in the process. Lance was still asleep, but they somehow moved and his head was resting against Keith’s chest. He moved the sleeping boy gently and reached to unzip the tent from inside. Shiro’s head popped in, and it was still dark outside.  
“Rise and shine,” Shiro grinned at him.  
“The fuck?” Keith rubbed his eyes, “what’s the time?”  
“Time to go fishing! Poke your boyfriend for me, please.”  
“We’re not going fishing…” Keith murmured.  
“Correction, you’re not going. Lance and I have other plans. Right, Lance?”  
His voice was loud enough to wake Lance as well, and he blinked at him with a confused, sleepy look.  
“I don’t think Lance wants to go anywhere,” Keith stated the obvious.  
“What? Fishing? Oh, right. Fishing. Crap, just give me a sec,” Lance pulled himself up and turned to look for his shirt.  
“Hurry, the early bird catches the worm,” Shiro told him, “of course in our case I already have the worms, we only need to catch the fish.”

“Lance,” Keith blinked hard, willing his eyes to remain open, “you don’t have to do this, just tell him to fuck off.”  
“Watch your language, young man,” Shiro wagged his finger at him like a middle aged dad.  
“I agreed to this,” Lance sighed as he changed into a pair of jeans, “don’t worry about it.”  
“Mmm well, I’m going back to sleep then.”  
Lance grabbed his jacket and tucked the blanket over Keith’s shoulders. “Sleep tight,” he told him, “by the time you wake up, we’ll catch the biggest fish in the lake.” With that, Lance pressed his lips softly against Keith’s cheek, and before Keith had the time to react, he was out of the tent.   
Suddenly, Keith was wide awake. His cheek burned with the trace of Lance’s lips. Keith touched his fingertips to it, trying to process what just happened.  
Of course, Shiro was there and it made sense. But something about the whole thing – the fact that they spent an entire night cuddling in a tent, the fact that Keith was still a little dizzy with sleep, the sweet words Lance whispered to him before kissing him in the softest way imaginable, it all filled Keith’s heart with an incredible longing. He wanted it to be real.

He fell asleep eventually, despite how strangely excited this one instance made him. When he woke up, Lance and Shiro were already back and everyone was having breakfast. Keith joined them, and Lance bragged about catching the largest fish of the day.   
“You should’ve seen me,” Lance told him, “I reeled it in like a pro, one swift motion and BAM! King of the lake. Right, Shiro?”  
“I was impressed,” Shiro agreed.  
“Did you hear that, Keith?” Lance poked him, “Shiro was impressed. Are you impressed?”  
Keith shook his head at Lance’s hopeful face. It was so adorable, his heart ached. He covered his mouth with his hand to hide a smile. “You’re so stupid,” he murmured.  
“What, really?” Lance poked him again, harder this time, “can’t you just tell me that you’re proud of me this one time?”  
“Sounds like Shiro is being a better boyfriend to Lance than you are,” Pidge commented, immediately hiding their face behind a cup of freshly brewed coffee.   
Keith gave them a warning look, then he turned back to Lance.  
“Fine,” he said, “I’m proud of you. Very impressive. King of the lake. Can you pass me the salt, Your Highness?”  
“It’s Your Majesty,” Lance corrected him, but he passed the salt.

The day went by in a slow, lazy manner. Shay, Hunk and Allura went to gather flowers for their flower crowns. Shiro and Pidge stayed behind with Shay’s guitar, Shiro showing Pidge the only seven chords he could play. Keith stayed alone in the tent, but Lance joined him soon enough and convinced him to go for a walk with him.

The woods were nice and very alive in the sun. Birds were singing somewhere above their heads and Lance spotted a rabbit with more excitement than Keith would expect from an adult. Lance had a few empty vials and plastic bags to collect herbs they may find, and Keith was impressed by how much Lance knew about plants. He even felt a little bad for teasing Lance as much as he did, especially since Lance’s teasing had no bite anymore and he even offered him quite a few compliments recently.

All this led to Keith saying “you’re a very good dancer” out loud, just when Lance opened his mouth to say something about the magical properties of daisies.  
“Most people are unaware that some common flowers can be – wait, what did you just say?”  
“Nothing,” Keith waved a hand to dismiss him and passed by him, heading down a different path, “never mind.”  
“Did you say that I’m a good dancer?”  
“I just – yeah, I saw you dancing the other day. It was nice, you looked – uh, you had some nice movements.”  
He didn’t look back as he walked faster, he didn’t want to see Lance’s reaction. He wasn’t even sure Lance was still following him at first, but then he heard him stumble behind him.  
“You like my dancing?” Lance prodded, “what do you like about it, specifically? Do you like the way I move my hips? Huh, Keith? Wait, don’t walk so fast, I want to show you my hip movements.”  
“What a mistake,” Keith murmured, “I take it back, I hate your dancing. Never dance in front of me again, it’s not sexy at all.”  
“You think it’s _sexy_?” Lance’s voice rose with excitement, “you didn’t say it’s sexy. Does my dancing turn you on? Keith, hey Keith, do you fantasize about my dancing when you – “

At that very moment Keith slipped, stumbled over a log and fell down a slope, hitting his leg hard on a sharp rock. Everything hurt. His hands softened the fall, but they were now covered in scratches from the rough landing. His shoulder hit the ground rather hard too, but he knew it wouldn’t be more than a bruise. The worst pain was his leg.  
“Fuck, Keith, are you okay?” Lance’s frantic voice rapidly approached him as he appeared at Keith’s side.  
“Oh god, there’s blood, oh god, Keith,” his face was worried and his hands instinctively reached for Keith’s leg to examine it, “did you hit your head? Any serious damage?”  
“No, I’m okay,” Keith said as he sat up and looked down at his bleeding leg. Lance’s concern was misguided, however. “The blood is nothing,” he said, “it barely hurts. I think there’s something wrong with my ankle though.”  
“What?” Lance moved further down his leg and examined his ankle. He pressed cold fingertips to it, carefully, watching Keith’s face for a reaction. The moment he moved his ankle even slightly, Keith hissed with pain.   
“This is not good,” said Lance, “not good at all. Okay, first of all, let’s clean the blood. It might be just a scratch, but if it gets infected you’re a dead man. Just wait a sec.”  
Lance took out a bottle of water from his backpack, pulled Keith’s pants up above his knee just where the cut was and washed it. He then pressed a few pieces of tissue paper against it and tied it with one of the plastic bags he brought for the herbs.   
Once he was satisfied with his work, Lance got up on his feet. “We need to get you back,” he said, “and get you to a hospital.”  
“Don’t be dramatic,” Keith told him, “it’s just a sprained ankle. It will heal.”  
“First of all,” Lance sounded like a stern mother, “are you a doctor? I don’t recall you mentioning your medical degree. Do not diagnose yourself. You can’t know how severe this is, what if it’s broken? You need a professional to look at it. Now, we need to get back and tell your brother.”  
“Do we have to?”  
“Yes, Keith, don’t be an idiot. You can’t walk though, can you?”  
Keith pulled himself up, bracing himself on a tree. Carefully, he lowered his foot to touch the ground. The moment he applied pressure onto it, pain shot up his leg and he winced.

“Not good,” said Lance, “hold on.”  
He took off his jacket and attempted to create some sort of ankle brace for Keith. It was clumsy and didn’t seem useful at all.   
“All right,” Lance said then, turning his back on Keith, “hop on.”  
“Huh?”  
“I’m going to carry you back to safety,” Lance explained, “hop on.”  
“I’m not going to ‘hop on’,” Keith protested, “I’m too heavy, you won’t be able to carry me.”  
“This again?” Lance turned back around to look at him, “I’m stronger than I look, Keith. I can carry you. Now shut up and ride me like the stallion that I am.”   
“Do you have to phrase it like that?” Keith asked him.  
“Yes, it was very intentional, come on,” Lance said. Keith rolled his eyes and shook his head a little, but it was clear that Lance was set on giving him this piggyback ride. He placed his hands on Lance’s shoulders, but there was no way he could jump that high without stepping on his injured foot.

“You’re too tall,” he complained, “I can’t jump that high.”  
Lance crouched low enough for him to lean forward and hop onto his back. He wrapped his arms around Lance’s shoulders, and Lance hooked his hands under his knees to secure him in his place. He expected Lance to stumble under the weight, but Lance didn’t waver. He didn’t grunt or complain either, he simply picked up the backpack from the ground and turned to find the path back to their little camp.

The way back was longer than either of them realized. They didn’t remember wandering so far off, and the way didn’t feel so long and boring when they were both well and having fun. Now, with Keith’s weight on his back, Lance wasn’t as chatty. And when Lance wasn’t chatty, and there was nothing to fill the silence, anxiety uncoiled in Keith’s chest with alarming speed.   
“Do you need to take a break?” he asked Lance a few minutes later. He could hear Lance’s breathing getting a little heavier, which filled him with guilt.  
“No,” Lance told him, clearly out of breath, “I’m fine. Just hold on tighter, okay?”  
Keith wrapped his arms tighter around Lance and rested his chin on Lance’s shoulder.   
“Are you sure?” he asked, “we’re not in a hurry, we can stop.”  
“Keith,” Lance hissed, “you’re the one who is injured, I’m supposed to be worried about you. Shut your pretty mouth and let me do this properly.”

Keith didn’t want to seem ungrateful, so he stopped talking. It didn’t take long, however, for Lance to exhaust himself. Keith listened to his breathing and noticed the strange pace. He couldn’t keep quiet any longer.  
“I need a break,” he said, “my ankle hurts, can you let me down for a few minutes?”  
This seemed to work. Lance stopped and let him hop off, visibly relieved to be able to catch his breath. They sat down on the ground, their backs against a tree. Lance took out the water bottle and made Keith drink. Then it was quiet.

“I’ve had fun,” Lance said after a few moments of silence, “it was a fun trip. I think it was a good idea after all. Well, other than…” he gestured at Keith’s leg.  
“It is fun,” Keith admitted, “it’s not over yet, though. You’re saying that as if it’s over now.”  
“It is over now,” Lance turned to look at him, “Keith, we’re going back. You’re injured, you can’t stay here.”  
Keith still thought that it was ridiculous for him to go to a hospital for this. Still, he was convinced that everyone could continue the trip without him. “So what?” he said then, “Shiro can take be to the hospital and come back, you’ll still have some time left for more fun.”  
Lance shook his head as if Keith was saying the most stupid thing possible. “Why do you think it’s fun for me, Keith?” he asked him then.  
“I don’t know. You like s’mores? You got to catch a giant fish and beat Shiro, you like the fire, the singing?”  
“You’re so stupid, Keith,” Lance told him. It stung. Keith didn’t understand why he was being attacked this way.  
“I’m not a complete idiot,” he tried to defend himself.  
“But sometimes you just can’t see very obvious things.”  
Keith watched his face carefully, trying to figure out what he meant by that. Lance was always very expressive, but whatever Keith was seeing on his face, he couldn’t read it. “What do you mean?”  
“Nothing,” Lance sighed, “forget it. I’m not staying here without you, though. If you go, I go with you.”  
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Keith said, “there’s no reason for you to leave as well.”  
“Of course there is,” Lance said, sounding somewhat defeated, “what kind of boyfriend am I if I let my partner go to a hospital alone? Come on, we better get going.” He got up on his feet, then helped Keith up before he had the time to think about it.

They remained quiet the rest of the way. It was clear to Keith that Lance was getting tired again, but he didn’t dare to say anything. Thankfully, they came back before he could get too tired.  
“Aww,” said Shay upon seeing them, “look how sweet they are.”  
“Not sweet,” Lance panted, “injured and in pain.”  
“What?” everyone immediately traded their smiles for concern. Lance let Keith down and explained the situation. Shiro was at his brother’s side in a heartbeat, checking his ankle in a similar way to Lance’s initial examination. “We need to take him to a hospital,” Lance said.  
“I disagree,” Keith protested again, “I think it’s fine. It’s just a little swollen.”  
“It’s really swollen, Keith,” Shiro shook his head, “Lance is right, this might be more than a sprained ankle. Either way, we have to make sure it’s okay.”  
“Give us about thirty minutes,” Hunk said, “we need to sort out the food, the rest will take no time at all. You can take him to the car while we clean and pack everything up.”  
“What? No,” Keith protested, “I don’t want to rain on everyone’s parade. It shouldn’t take long to get me to a hospital and get back. Where’s the nearest hospital?”   
“About an hour away,” said Lance, checking his phone.  
“Shiro will be back in a couple of hours,” Keith concluded, “just go on without me.”  
This sparked a long, exhausting conversation. They didn’t want to keep having fun while Keith was in pain and everyone agreed that it would be better to cut the party short, but Keith insisted that it wasn't worth it. Eventually, they agreed that Shiro would drive him to the hospital and come back, to continue this camping trip with the rest of them. Except for Lance, who insisted on coming along and staying with Keith.

Even though it was only the three of them this time, Lance climbed into the backseat with him. He didn’t keep the distance this time, either. The ride was quiet, and Lance struggled to get comfortable in his seat. He ended up falling asleep, his shoes off and his head on Keith’s shoulder.

Eventually, they reached the hospital. Shiro and Lance both helped Keith inside, and from then on they mostly had to do a lot of waiting. Shiro stayed until they took Keith in for an X-ray, then Lance convinced him that they were okay and he could go back. Then there was more waiting.   
“How are we going to get back home?” Keith asked while they waited.  
“Don’t worry about it,” Lance assured him, “I’ll take care of you. I’m a good boyfriend.”  
“You’re taking your role as a fake boyfriend a little too seriously,” Keith commented.  
“First of all, fuck you,” Lance said, “but so what if it’s fake? I can’t help it, I’m naturally good at everything I do. I just have to be the best, you know?”  
“Ha,” said Keith, “how do you manage to make a competition out of everything? This isn’t a race, Lance. You’re not competing against anyone. You can’t be the best if you’re racing against yourself.”

“Um, excuse me, there are at least two people in this race,” Lance gestured between the two of them, “and I’m DEFINITELY a better fake boyfriend than you are. I win.”  
“Oh, hell no,” said Keith, “I’m not going to let you drag me into your imaginary, one sided rivalry.”  
“You’re just saying that because you don’t want to admit that you’ve lost.”  
“How am I a bad fake boyfriend? No – no, we’re not doing that. Fine, you win, you’re the best fake boyfriend in a made-up competition you’re having with yourself.”  
“You’re a sore loser,” Lance nudged at him playfully.   
“Fuck you, okay? What did I do? I introduced you to my brother – “  
“ – against your own will.”  
“I changed my beliefs for you!”  
“Your beliefs were stupid and wrong to begin with.”  
“I – I complimented your dancing!”  
“Wow, you’re right!” the sarcasm in Lance’s voice was so thick, Keith wondered how he didn’t choke on it. “After weeks of dating, you finally give your boyfriend one single compliment, which you immediately take back because you can’t handle it for more than five seconds! Amazing, boyfriend of the year.”

Keith was about to defend himself, but the doctor came in then to give him an update. It was good news: nothing was broken, it was just a sprained ankle. The swelling should disappear in a day or two, and Keith will live. The doctor instructed him to stay home for a few days and use his leg as little as possible to let it heal.

Lance was about to start figuring out how to get them back home, when Shiro barged in, closely followed by Pidge and Hunk.  
“What are you doing here?” Keith asked them.   
“By the time I got back, they already packed everything and were ready to leave,” Shiro explained.  
“We couldn’t stay there without you, buddy,” Hunk told him, “you’re an essential part of the team.”  
“You really shouldn’t have,” Keith said, “the doctor just said that I’m fine, so there’s no reason to worry. You still had plenty of time, you could've had some fun without me.”  
“It’s boring without you,” Pidge said, “there was no one for me to make fun of. Have you ever tried to make fun of Hunk? It’s physically impossible.”  
“We missed you!” Hunk said, “so can you shut up and accept our love and support, please?”  
Keith wanted to protest, but then he caught Lance’s gaze. He was smiling at him, warm and without and ounce of mockery.   
“Accept our love, dumbass,” Lance said.  
Keith took a deep breath. “I really appreciate it,” he said at last, “thank you.”  
Hunk pushed forward then and wrapped him in his arms. It was a little awkward because Keith was sitting and Hunk was standing, but it was nice.   
“Hunk, are you crying?” Keith asked when he thought he heard a muffled sniffling sound.  
“This is a very touching moment,” Hunk replied, tears in his eyes, “don’t judge me. Lance, come join us. Group hug!”  
Lance didn’t need to be told twice. He joined their hug from Keith’s right. Shay and Allura, who just came in, didn’t need to be invited either, they joined without saying anything. Pidge joined too, and after an encouraging comment from Allura, Shiro threw in an arm as well.

It was silly and uncomfortable, but Keith couldn’t deny that he had never felt so loved before. Eventually, he had to say “guys, this is very nice and all, but I think you’re going to suffocate me to death”, after which they let go of him, showering him all the while with encouragement and affection.

Even as they let go, their smiles lingered and their words left a warm trace in his heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a little shorter than usual, but I'll do my best to post the next one as soon as possible :)


	11. Healing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two boys learning to calm each other down when the other is in need of moral support.

Even though their vacation had to be over earlier than planned, Keith ended up having a few days off work anyway, due to his injury. This was good news, of course, since Keith could certainly use the rest. His anxiety, however, had other plans for this unplanned break. Being left alone with his thoughts without anything to distract him was terrible, and Keith tried to battle it with oversleeping and binging a TV series he’d seen way too many times before.

Lance texted him throughout the day, asking about his well being. It made him smile, and he replied honestly. He wanted to tell Lance about his anxiety. He wanted to make Lance talk about something, anything, nothing in particular, to keep his mind busy, to annoy him, to distract him from the bad thoughts. He didn’t say any of that. He told him that his ankle was already better and not so swollen anymore, though it still hurt.

As the evening approached, it got worse. Pidge knocked on his bedroom door asking whether he had any dinner yet.   
“Yes,” he lied, because he couldn’t bear to eat. They asked whether he was fine.   
“Yes,” he lied again. They went away.

It got worse still, and night fell, and Keith wished he could force himself to fall asleep. He considered calling Lance. In fact, he kept considering it, so much so that it felt like an itch in his brain he couldn’t get rid of. But he did not.

Then, just when he was about to get out of bed and talk to Pidge, Lance called him.

“Liar, liar, pants on fire,” was his greeting. By then, Keith was used to never getting a normal “hello” out of him.  
“What?”  
“You told me you were fine. You’re not fine.”  
“No idea what you’re talking about.”  
“I talked to Pidge,” Lance told him, “Pidge may have ridiculously thick glasses, but they aren’t blind. Tell me what’s up.”  
“I’m fine,” Keith insisted, “I told you, it doesn’t hurt that much – “  
“I’m not talking about your stupid ankle,” Lance interrupted him, “I’m talking about you. What’s wrong?”  
“Nothing. I'm fine.”  
“Okay,” said Lance, “last time you felt ‘fine’, you attracted a murderous ghost. Do you want more ghosts in your life?”  
“No.”  
“Then talk to me. You said you would talk to me, remember?”  
“I know.”  
“If you don’t want to talk to me, that’s fair enough. But if you ignore Pidge as well, that’s… You have to talk to someone, Keith.”  
“Okay.”  
“Do you want to tell me what’s up?”  
He stayed quiet for a moment. He had the urge to cry, though he didn’t know why. There was no way he could talk to Lance without losing it.  
“Can you tell me about your day?” he asked, quietly. Perhaps Lance heard the seriousness in his voice, or perhaps he understood that Keith was struggling to speak. Either way, he complied.

Lance told him about his day in detail. He described his clients, he talked about having lunch with Hunk. He told him about a fat pigeon he saw on his way home from the grocery store. And Keith listened, tears streaming down his face, breathing carefully so Lance wouldn’t hear him cry. Weirdly, it helped. He concentrated on every detail Lance shared with him, and the tears brought relief rather than sorrow.

“And then I talked to Pidge, and now I’m talking to you. The end,” Lance concluded. There was silence again.   
Keith tried his best to keep his voice steady when he finally said “what an eventful day.” He didn’t succeed. His voice sounded broken, weak, miserable. Lance paid it no mind.  
“It was, wasn’t it? What an emotional roller coaster. Now, would you like me to tell you about the drama with my sister’s new boyfriend, or would you rather hear about my passionate argument with Hunk over Backstreet Boys songs?”  
“Both,” Keith said, and he meant it.

They talked for quite a while. Or, rather, Lance talked and Keith listened. Slowly, he immersed himself into the conversation and managed to calm down. Eventually, he even found himself replying to Lance, and their conversation became a little more mutual.

“Maybe I should come by tomorrow,” Lance said after a few moments of silence, “would you like me to? We always hang out at our place, we could use a change of scenery.”  
“You hate our place,” Keith reminded him, “you saw a cockroach once and you insisted that we should burn the apartment.”  
“I regret nothing,” Lance told him, “I hated living there, but I don’t mind staying there for a few hours. We could watch some of those – what did Pidge say would make me believe in aliens?”  
“Ha,” said Keith, “you’re not coming over here to watch conspiracy theories with me, are you?”   
“I sure am,” said Lance, “why wouldn’t I? What is this judgmental tone?”  
“Well, it’s just that you think it’s all garbage.”  
“Yes, but unlike _some people_ , I have an open mind. So if you want to try and convince me that – what, that bigfoot is real?”  
“Among other things.”  
“Then I’m willing to listen. Show me those U.F.Os. Teach me about the – what did you call him? The Mosquito Man?”  
“I can’t believe you just referred to Mothman as the Mosquito Man.”  
“Mothman! Right. That sounds like a superhero. Whatever, show me your crazy movies. I’ll bring the tin foil.”  
“I hate you sometimes.”  
“Liar, liar, pants on fire.”  
“I’m not wearing any pants.”  
“Is that you flirting with me?”  
“Just stating facts.”  
“Good, because that’s not good flirting.”  
“My flirting is fine, thank you very much.”  
“Nonexistent, you mean.”  
“You’ve never seen me flirt,” Keith argued.  
“Exactly,” Lance said, and he could practically hear the smile in his voice, “nonexistent.”  
Keith sighed, but he was smiling too. He felt infinitely better than before Lance had called him. He moved the phone away from his ear to check how long they’d been on the phone for.

“Fuck,” he said, “we’ve been talking for almost two hours.”  
“Yes, and I should probably tell you that my battery is about to die, and my charger is in the Ghost Room – Fuck! – the Workroom, I mean.”  
“I’ll see you tomorrow then,” Keith said.  
“Wait,” Lance said, “are you any better now? Was this helpful in any way?”  
Keith thought about it for a moment. “Yeah,” he said, “it was. Thank you.”  
“No problem. Next time, you let me know, okay?”  
“Sure.”  
“Will you go to sleep now?”  
“I’ll try.”  
“Sounds like honesty. You should try it more often.”  
“Maybe I will. Go to sleep, Lance.”  
“Goodnight.”

* * *

 

Lance’s day started rather early. He tried to reschedule his appointments, to have them earlier in the day in order to have more time with Keith in the evening. This meant that Lance had to wake up at seven in the morning. He hated this, but to Hunk’s great surprise, he didn’t complain.

“You seem cheerful today, buddy,” he told him over breakfast, “which isn’t unusual, except it’s seven in the morning, and normally you’d be cursing the world by now.”  
“It’s all good,” Lance told him, “I can sleep later. I have plans today.”  
“Keith?” Hunk guessed.  
“I’m going over to his place later today,” Lance confirmed, “he’s going to try and convince me that bigfoot is real.”  
“Sounds fun,” said Hunk, “but is the thought of seeing Keith today really makes you feel cheerful and energetic at,” he looked at the clock, “seven twenty four in the morning?”  
“I’m worried about him,” Lance attempted to justify his joy, “he’s still in pain, you know.”  
“Right,” said Hunk, “so this has nothing to do with the massive crush you have on him?”  
“For the eleventh time this week, Hunk, there is no crush,” he lied, “I’m just glad to spend time with my injured buddy.”  
“Right,” Hunk didn’t seem convinced, “I’ll just wait for that phase when you can’t keep it in anymore and have to talk about your crush every time you open your mouth.”  
“Not going to happen,” Lance assured him, “because I have this under control this time. I’m just not going to let this happen.”  
“You can’t control love, Lance,” Hunk told him, and he was speaking from experience.  
“Yes I can. Watch me.”  
“Why are you so stubborn about this? Would it really be that bad to have a crush on Keith? Why aren’t you letting yourself feel things?”

“Because,” said Lance, a little frustrated, “because it’s hopeless. I mean, it would be hopeless if I felt anything, which I certainly don’t. But if I did, it wouldn’t end well.”  
“Don’t you think,” Hunk suggested, “that there is a chance, perhaps, that Keith likes you too?”  
“None whatsoever,” Lance dismissed the thought, “I know it. I’ve seen it when we talk, he... I think he’s uncomfortable with me, even as a friend. Anyway, it doesn’t matter, because I don’t like him that way either and there’s nothing to talk about. Let’s talk about you instead. How is Shay?”  
“Amazing,” Hunk smiled, “there’s nothing about her I don’t like. See? It’s so easy to admit.”  
“That’s because you know that she likes you back.”  
“No I don’t,” Hunk shrugged, “but I’m full of hope. I’m going to ask her out on an official date tomorrow.”  
“Really? That’s great, buddy,” Lance got up to walk around the table and give Hunk a supportive hug, “I’m so happy for you two.”  
“She hasn’t said yes yet,” Hunk reminded him.  
“She will,” Lance assured him, “who would ever say no to this?” he held Hunk’s face in his hands, smooshing his cheeks a little.

He was then distracted by a phone call. It was his first customer, asking to come over a little earlier.

“Now, you’ll have to excuse me,” he told Hunk once he hung up, “I must transform into Blue Lion.”  
“Sure thing, buddy,” said Hunk, “let me know how it goes with Keith.”  
“Nothing will go with Keith,” Lance said, “there will be no going anywhere, of any kind. We will just watch some weird documentaries and eat popcorn. As two buddies.”  
“Right,” Hunk wasn’t buying it, “let me know when you’re ready to admit your own feelings.”  
Lance was about to protest, but Hunk grabbed his jacket and slipped outside before he had the chance to do so.

But as Lance got ready for the day, he had to face his thoughts. And the truth was, he had already admitted those feelings to himself. He knew that it was too late, that he longed to be around Keith a little too much, that every time Keith sat close to him he wondered how easy it would be for him to lean forward and kiss him, that Keith never left his thoughts even once since the night they changed back into their own bodies. But he also remembered how shy and guarded Keith acted around him. He remembered Keith’s unreasonable insistence on giving Lance his privacy, even when it was quite impossible. He couldn’t count the number of times he caught Keith looking away from him, or taking a step back because they were standing too close, or pressing his back tighter against the wall when they shared a bed. This surely meant that Keith would be uncomfortable with Lance’s feelings if he knew about them. For Keith’s sake, then, Lance had to push those feelings away and keep them to himself. Nobody could know.

 

“So your boyfriend is coming over to learn about aliens?” Pidge asked once Keith told them that they were expecting company that evening.   
“Not my boyfriend, but yes,” Keith answered, “he wants me to educate him, I guess. If you ask me, I think he’s still salty about my skepticism, and he wants to show me that he can be more open minded than me.”  
“A competition nobody signed up for which guarantees him a winning place? Yup, sounds like Lance.”  
“Yes, he keeps doing that,” Keith complained, “he insists that he’s a better fake boyfriend than I am, too.”  
“Well, he’s right about that,” Pidge said, “you’re a lousy boyfriend.”  
“Excuse me?”  
“You are excused,” Pidge grinned at him, “what? Would you like me to lie to you? You know that you’re being a lousy boyfriend to him.”  
“It’s not a real relationship in the first place!”  
“Well, then you’re being a lousy fake boyfriend, whatever you want to call it. He’s done everything by the book so far. What have you done?”  
“I don’t need to do anything, because it’s not a real relationship, and it wasn’t even my idea.”  
“And you expect to win this contest with that attitude?”  
“Not a contest!”  
“That’s what losers say.”  
“Why are you taking his side?” Keith whined, “you’re supposed to be my friend. Are you his best friend now? Is that what’s going on?”  
“Aww, are you jealous?” Pidge walked over to where he was sat on the couch and punched him affectionately on the shoulder.   
“No,” said Keith, “I just think that you’re a traitor and I don’t want to speak to you ever again.”  
Pidge laughed at that, and they were interrupted by a knock on the door.

Lance had arrived, and the three of them ate dinner together. They talked about the day they all had, and then Pidge excused themselves and said they were going to work on their project in the lab. Keith suspected that they were trying to give him some time alone with Lance, which he was thankful for on one hand, but slightly annoyed by on the other. The way Pidge kept acting as if they knew about their relationship more than Keith did was rather irritating, but he said nothing.

They settled in the living room, and Keith was exceptionally excited. It’d been a while since he had the chance to share his favorite conspiracy theories with someone. Pidge was rather supportive in that regard, but there was pretty much no one else other than that. And Lance was, surprisingly, a great listener. He let Keith go off about which theories make no sense at all, and which are the best and most reliable documentaries. He asked questions, not patronizing, no sarcasm at all, just plain curiosity. He watched the documentaries attentively, never checking his phone or yawning, seemingly interested.

“What do you think?” Keith asked him after the Mothman documentary was over.  
“I like this one,” Lance admitted, “although I’m quite convinced that aliens are behind it. The whole prehistoric bird theory is tempting, too, but I think ‘aliens’ just ties it all together very nicely.”  
Keith watched his face carefully, looking for any signs of mockery. He found nothing.  
“You really think that?” he asked, “you sounded very skeptical when I told you about him.”  
“First of all, I thought he was Mosquito Man at first,” Lance defended himself, “and you have to admit that just sounds crazy. And without much detail, ‘a man who is a giant moth with glowing red eyes’ just doesn’t seem very plausible.”  
“Yeah, well, ‘I talk to the lingering souls of dead people and lift curses’ doesn’t sound so convincing either.”  
“Fine,” Lance raised his hands in defeat, “but can you agree, at least, that I am being more open minded than you were?”  
“This again? This is not a competition.”   
“You just don’t want to admit that I’m winning.”   
“Shut up. We’re going to watch some aliens now.”

And they did. They watched an impressive amount of documentaries for one sitting. Lance didn’t complain once. In fact, he seemed rather amused and pleased to watch Keith’s sudden rants. They never looked at the time, and only realized how late it was once Pidge walked in, surprised to see them still in the living room.

“Are you aware that it is two in the morning?” they asked.  
“Oh, shit,” Lance looked at his phone, “I should get going.”  
“I can give you a ride,” Keith suggested.  
“Remember how I swore that I will never, ever, _ever_ get onto that Devil’s Invention ever again?”  
“I remember there being about seventeen more ‘ever’s.”  
“Well, I meant it.”  
“You can just sleep here,” Pidge said on their way down the hall.   
“Right,” Lance agreed, “I guess I can crash on the couch.”  
“NO,” Keith and Pidge said at the same time.  
“What?”  
“This couch is a safety hazard,” Keith warned him, “have you noticed that we don’t sit on the far left cushion? That’s because if you do, the couch will try to murder you.”  
“Well fuck me,” said Lance, “you really need to get a new couch.”  
“Yes, as soon as we have the money,” Keith said.  
“So, never,” Pidge elaborated.  
“Fine,” Lance shrugged, “I’ll just sleep on the floor then, I don’t mind.”

Keith rolled his eyes at him and silently pulled him by the wrist, leading him to his bedroom. Lance didn’t ask questions, and neither did Pidge as they disappeared behind the door into their own room.

“You’re sleeping on the bed,” Keith said as he dug through his closet to find some sweats for Lance to change into, “I’ll sleep on the floor.”  
“You really need a bigger bed,” Lance commented.  
“Yes, we need so many things,” Keith said, throwing the sweatpants at him, “get changed.”

Keith placed a few blankets on the floor while Lance was in the bathroom, doing his best to make the floor more suitable for sleeping on. When Lance came back in, he complained, insisting that it was Keith’s place and that he was injured, so he should get the bed.

“If I let you sleep on the floor,” Keith told him, “then I’ll definitely be the worst fake boyfriend in the history of ever.”  
“Ha,” Lance pointed at him in triumph, “so it is a competition!”  
“Shut up,” Keith settled in his makeshift bed on the floor, “get in bed and go the fuck to sleep.”  
“Whatever you say, honey,” said Lance with the widest smile on his face, “but sleeping on the floor this one time isn’t going to make you a better fake boyfriend, I’m just saying.”  
“You talk too much.”  
“You like it.”  
“It’s two thirty in the morning.”  
“Can’t get enough of me.”  
“Goodnight, Lance.”  
“Goodnight. Sleep tight. Don’t let the bed bugs bite.”  
“I’m not even in a bed.”  
“The floor bugs? That just sounds disgusting.”  
“I will kill you in your sleep.”  
“Death threats, Keith? Worst fake boyfriend ever.”  
Keith groaned in response, but they were quiet after that.

Soon enough, Lance was asleep. Keith was struggling to keep his brain quiet. He couldn’t stop thinking about the evening they just spent together. He thought about all the opportunities he had to flirt with Lance, and about how he missed every single one. He thought about how close they were sitting on the couch, careful not to sit on the wrong cushion, and how their shoulders were pressed together. He thought about the way Lance watched him when he talked, and his dreamy smile, and how nice his face looked from up close, lit only by the blue glow of the TV screen.

An hour went by, and he still couldn’t sleep. His ankle felt itchy all of a sudden, and the floor was extremely uncomfortable, and he kept listening to Lance’s even breathing for reassurance. Until it wasn’t even anymore.

Something was wrong. He knew that the moment he heard Lance gasp, which was followed by a strange, choked whimper.  
“Lance?” Keith pulled himself up to see Lance better. His eyes were open, and he seemed to be paralyzed with fear.  
“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” Keith whispered, climbing onto the bed to sit beside him.  
Lance’s whole body was trembling. He was breathing heavily, trying to calm himself down. Keith instinctively reached to touch his forehead, like a concerned mother checking her child for fever. He was warmer than usual, but he wasn’t burning. His hand slid down to touch his throat, where he could feel his incredibly fast pulse.   
“It’s okay,” Keith whispered, “everything is okay. Lance, are you with me?”  
Lance nodded slowly. “Sorry,” he managed to whisper back, “I just… Bad dream.”  
“Okay,” Keith nodded, “it was a dream. This is reality. What can I do to help?”  
“I don’t know,” Lance shook his head, but when Keith moved his hand to pull away from him, Lance grabbed his wrist and kept it in its place. “Wait,” he said, “just… Stay with me for a moment, okay?”

“Okay. Make some space for me.” Keith gestured at him to move closer to the wall. Keith’s bed was narrow, and with Lance’s long limbs it already seemed smaller than usual, but Lance pressed his back to the wall and Keith lay down beside him anyway. They lay face to face, eyes open, watching each other and waiting for Lance to calm down. Keith’s hand was still pressed to Lance’s neck, where Lance was keeping it with his own firm grip. Slowly, Lance’s fingers relaxed and let go of his wrist.  
“Do you want to talk about it?” Keith whispered.   
“No,” Lance replied. It was the first time Keith had heard Lance say that he didn’t want to talk, which was slightly alarming. Keith was determined to help him as much as he could. He moved his hand carefully, gently, from his neck down his shoulder and then down his arm. His touch was light, soothing, careful not to startle. Lance shivered as his fingers traced back up to his shoulder. It was dark, and he could only see Lance in the dim moonlight reaching in from his window, but he was close enough to see the goosebumps on his skin.

“Better now?” he asked. Lance breathed out slowly, finally in control of the air in his lungs.   
“Yes,” he said, “better. Thank you.”  
“Do you want me to stay until you fall asleep again?” he asked. Lance nodded, and Keith motioned at him to roll over. It was hard to do in the little space he had, but Lance managed to turn his back to him. Just as he did back in the tent, Keith wrapped an arm around Lance’s shoulders and pulled him close, trying to be the support Lance needed at this moment. Slowly, he could hear Lance’s breath returning to its smooth, even pace. He thought that he’d give it a few more minutes just to make sure, and then he’d slip back down onto the floor.

  
Instead, he just fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that I'm dealing a lot with their anxiety and depression, but I feel like they need to learn to trust and support each other before they can be in a (real) relationship.  
> That being said, next chapter is a big one, so stay tuned :)


	12. There's a Boy I Like

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the moment you've all been waiting for! Time for some juicy confessions...

Keith’s ankle healed eventually, and he went back to work. Everything seemed to go back to normal again, with one slight change. Keith and Lance spent way more time together now. Lance seemed more comfortable with visiting their place, and Pidge had to get used to seeing him just hanging there whenever they came back from work. They coordinated Keith’s shifts with Lance’s clients to have evenings together, and it wasn’t uncommon for one of them to fall asleep in the other’s bed.

Hunk and Shay officially started dating, which brought their group together even more. After a few group dates, game night was born. Pidge had a passion for coming up with ridiculous games for them to play, combining some existing games with crazy twists which mostly ended up with the rest of them embarrassing themselves. Pidge, however, always managed to stay out of the line of fire and was always in the position to laugh at the rest of them.

There were other changes too. Sometimes Keith would hang out with Hunk alone, going out for a drink with him or just for an occasional cooking lesson. Sometimes Lance would come by Altea to have his lunch break with Keith. They both made lists for each other, too. Lance’s list consisted of 122 movies that Keith had to see, and Keith’s list was a bizarre compilation of documentaries and theories that Lance had to get familiar with. Overall, they both were content with these developments in their relationship, but there was a giant elephant in the room that was yet to be addressed.

 

“I don’t understand why Shiro and Allura can’t be together,” Lance told Keith one day. He was sitting on the counter in their kitchen, holding a bowl of icing in his hands, while Keith checked on the cupcakes in the oven. They were trying to make cupcakes according to Hunk’s recipe, and it wasn’t going well at all. They didn’t seem to mind.

“Shiro says that she only sees him as a friend,” Keith told him as he closed the oven. Lance dipped a spoon in the icing just slightly, ready to lick it.  
“Your brother should get his eyes fixed,” he cleaned the spoon with his tongue, enjoying the sweet, creamy substance, “she’s so obviously head over heels for him.”  
“Love is blind, I guess,” Keith shrugged, “will you stop eating the icing? Leave some for the cupcakes.” He snatched the bowl out of Lance’s grasp and placed it on the table. Lance was about to protest, but he couldn’t.  
Keith was standing with his back to him, a pink apron loosely tied around his waist, and Lance’s eyes refused to leave his beautiful ass.  
“I agree, they’re being ridiculous,” Keith said as he cleaned the surface of the table, “I mean, sometimes they flirt with each other so outrageously, I don’t understand how either of them can think it’s platonic. Just the other day, he outright told her that he would marry her. Not as a hypothetical situation, not as a joke, not in a ‘if we’re both single by the time we’re 40’ kind of way. He just told her he could see himself marrying her. How is that a platonic thing friends just say to each other?”  
“Exactly,” Lance shook his head, “they’re so…” Keith turned around then, and Lance noticed that there was flour on his face. “So, so stupid.”  
“I wish they would just admit their feelings for each other already,” Keith sighed, “it’s annoying for everyone involved. Why are you looking at me like that?”  
“Come here, Chef, you’ve got flour on your face,” Lance smiled and gestured at him to step closer. When Keith was within his reach, he leaned forward to pull him by the apron. Keith stood, waiting, his palms on Lance’s knees absentmindedly, as Lance reached up to brush the flour away from his face.

“So messy,” he said as he tilted Keith’s face to the side to check for more flour, “how did it even get here? It’s in your hair, too.”  
“You’re one to talk,” Keith freed himself from his hands and reached up to hold Lance’s face instead, “you got icing on your cheek. I told you not to eat it.”  
“I was tasting it to make sure it was good,” Lance informed him, “that’s what chefs do.”  
Keith cleaned his cheek with his thumb and let his hands drop back to Lance’s knees. There was no need for them to stand this close anymore, but Keith remained there, between Lance’s legs, all up in his space.  
“And does it take five spoonfuls of icing to make sure it’s good?” Keith asked, his voice dropping to almost a whisper, his eyes glued to Lance’s face.

It was pure torture. Lance’s heart beat fast and hard in his chest. He could hear it in his ears, and he hoped it wasn’t loud enough for Keith to hear. His eyes almost involuntarily dropped to Keith’s lips. It would be so easy for him to lean forward just a tiny bit further and close the distance between them. It would be so satisfying to trap Keith’s hips with his thighs, to wrap his arms around those strong shoulders, to bury his fingers in that stupid, stupid hair –

Then Keith took a step back, very abruptly. Too abruptly to be casual. Lance’s thoughts were immediately reeling – what if he gave it away? What if Keith could see the raw desire in his eyes? Was he making Keith uncomfortable?  
“The – the cupcakes,” Keith stuttered, “I should check on them.”  
“Right,” Lance cleared his throat, “the cupcakes. Good thinking.”

The cupcakes got burned a little, but with a mountain of icing on top, neither of them cared. They ate the sugary baked goods and the brief incident in the kitchen was soon forgotten.

 

They went to sleep very late that night. Hunk stayed over at Shay’s place, and they lost track of time watching movies again. Keith didn’t even have to say that he was too tired to drive himself home, he simply followed Lance to his bedroom. While Lance was in the bathroom, his phone rang. Keith ignored it as he changed his clothes, but it kept ringing until Lance came back into the room.

“Who the fuck is calling you at three in the morning?” Keith asked him.  
Lance checked his phone and grunted loudly. “It’s my ex again,” he said, “he’s been trying to reach me for three days now. I told him to fuck off, but he doesn’t – “ the phone started ringing again – “get the hint.”  
Keith closed the distance between them in three steps and gestured at Lance to hand over his phone. Lance raised his eyebrows questioningly, but he said nothing as he placed the phone in Keith’s palm. Keith answered, putting the phone on speaker.

“Who is this?” he asked. There was a pause, then -  
“It’s me, Ethan,” said a man’s voice, “is that you, Lance? You sound – “  
“Why the fuck are you calling my boyfriend at three in the morning?” Keith asked, trying to sound as tough and angry as he could. It wasn’t hard, since he was already on edge about this whole ex thing.  
“Your – what?” Ethan sounded confused.  
“Listen here, you little shit,” Keith was getting a little too into this, “Lance is taken, alright? He doesn’t want to talk to you. If you ever call him again, I’ll find you, and I’ll cut you into little pieces, then throw those pieces on the grill and feed them to your grieving mother. Get it?”  
Ethan said nothing. They could hear faint background noises, but nothing else.  
“I need you to say it, Assface,” Keith said.  
“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” Ethan said at last.  
“Good, now fuck off,” Keith concluded and hung up. He then looked up at Lance, who was beaming with glee.

“What the hell was that?” Lance asked, moving closer to take back his phone.  
“Did I go a little too far? I don’t know, I think he will leave you alone now.”  
“Who wouldn’t?” Lance laughed, “you are terrifying, Keith.”  
“Good,” Keith shrugged, “it can be useful sometimes.”

They sat down on the bed, Lance clearly ready to climb under the covers already, but Keith had something else in mind.  
“Lance,” he said, his heart already beating far too fast even though nothing was happening.  
“Mmm?” Lance turned around, giving Keith a questioning look.  
“I want to tell you something,” Keith said. They both adjusted on the bed so they would sit face to face. Keith felt as if he was going to faint. Lance seemed to pick up on his nervous tone.  
“What’s up?” he asked, a reassuring smile on his lips, “you can talk to me, buddy. It’s okay, whatever you have to say. Go ahead.”

Keith took a deep breath. He was going to do it. He was going to say it. But then he said something else.  
“There’s someone… I think there’s someone I like.”  
“What?” Lance’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, “someone you like? As in, romantically?”  
Keith breathed out. “Yes,” he nodded, “there’s a guy I really, really like.”  
“Really? Who? Is it someone from work?” Lance’s voice was a little too high pitched, the way it sounded when he was in a stressful situation, and it was making Keith even more nervous. He panicked.  
“You don’t know him,” he said, “he’s just – I’ve liked him for a while now. And I don’t know what to do.”  
“Oh…” Lance’s smile disappeared as he seemed to realize something. “You want to break up with me.”  
“What?”  
“I mean – the fake boyfriend thing,” Lance looked up at him again, “obviously, if you like someone… You can’t have everyone thinking that I’m your boyfriend, right?”  
“I – no, it’s not that,” Keith said, “I don’t think… That guy doesn’t like me back. It doesn’t matter.”  
“Well, how do you know that? Did he tell you that?”  
“No, but… I think he just likes me as a friend. It’s pretty obvious.”  
“No offense, Keith, but you’re kind of oblivious when it comes to this,” Lance said. There was a strange note of pain in his voice, and Keith wanted to make him elaborate on that, but Lance cut him off before he had the chance to speak.  
“You know what, it doesn’t matter. I knew we were going to have to end it sooner or later. It’s not fair for anyone involved. It’s unfair to Shiro, and to Allura and Shay. It’s not fair to me, or to you. We’re lying to them, we’re stuck in this… This lie. And now we have a good reason, too, since you like someone.”

Keith was about to protest, but his heart felt suddenly heavy. Lance was clearly tired of pretending to be his boyfriend, and Keith felt guilty again for dragging him into this for so long.  
“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Keith nodded, “what do I tell Shiro then?”  
“That we broke up,” Lance sighed, “just please don’t tell him that I cheated on you or something of the sort. I remember him saying something about scooping my eyes out with a spoon if I ever hurt you.”  
“I’ll say it was a mutual break up,” Keith said, “no hard feelings, and we’re still friends.”  
“Sounds good.”  
They stared at each other for a few more moments. There was a sense of sadness between them, but neither had anything else to add. Keith silently climbed onto his side of the bed, his back pressed to the wall the way he used to sleep when they first met. They didn’t look at each other as they fell asleep.

* * *

 

“I fucked up,” Keith said when Pidge came over for his lunch break at Altea the next day.  
“Huh? No, this coffee is fine,” Pidge said, “you remember my order by heart, you never fuck up.”  
“Not the coffee,” Keith sighed, “I fucked up with Lance.”  
“What have you done?” Pidge put down their coffee, ready to roll their eyes at his problems.  
“I kind of told him that I like someone,” Keith admitted, “that I like… Someone else.”  
Pidge blinked at him, confused and very judgmental. “Why? Why would you do that? Why?”  
“I don’t know,” Keith collapsed on top of the table, pressing his forehead to its cool surface, letting his hair fall messily around his face, “I am an idiot.”  
“Yes, yes you are,” Pidge agreed, “why did you tell him that?”

“I was going to tell him… Something else,” Keith didn’t dare to raise his head.  
There was a careful pause. “What were you going to tell him?”  
“I was going to tell him that I like him,” Keith admitted at last, his voice completely defeated.  
“Ah,” Pidge sounded extremely gleeful, “so you like him, then?”  
“Shut up,” Keith looked up, “you already know, don’t you?”  
“Of course I know,” Pidge beamed at him, “I’ve told you that weeks ago. Right, so you told him that you like… Someone else. Who, though? Someone in particular?”  
“I told him that he doesn’t know the guy,” Keith said quietly.  
“Huh. Bad move. Terrible move. And what did he say?”  
“He broke up with me.”  
“He did what?”  
“He ended our fake relationship,” Keith looked down at the table, “he said that he doesn’t want this to mess with my crush.”

Pidge laughed heartily at that, amused by the irony of the situation. Keith would laugh too, if he wasn’t in so much pain.  
“This is priceless,” Pidge said once they calmed down a little, “Keith, you’re both idiots.”  
“I know,” Keith whined, “but what can I do now? I just went from one lie to another. And it’s clear that he wanted to end this fake relationship for a long time now, Pidge.”  
“I don’t think so,” Pidge shook their head, “I think he genuinely thinks that he’s standing in the way of your happiness with some hot stud. What he doesn’t know, is that the only person standing in the way of your happiness with a hot stud is you.”  
“Stop making it worse,” Keith pleaded, “I already know that this situation is stupid and hopeless. Should I come clean? Tell him that I lied, and that there’s nobody else?”  
“Just tell him that’s it’s him, it’s not that hard. Oh, by the way, have you told Shiro yet?”  
“No, I didn’t have the chance.”  
“Great, well, you have it now,” Pidge got up and waved at someone on the other side of the restaurant, “hey, Shiro! Over here!”

Shiro had just entered the restaurant, his eyes scanning the place, most likely for Allura. He spotted Pidge right away and approached them with a smile.  
“I’m going to leave,” Pidge patted him on the back, “should I tell Allura that you need a few more minutes for your break?”  
“No,” Keith sighed, “I’d like an excuse to end this conversation as soon as possible.”  
“Suit yourself,” Pidge shrugged and left, bumping fists with Shiro on their way.

“You seem extremely cheerful on this beautiful Monday afternoon,” Shiro told him as he took a seat beside him, his voice dripping with sarcasm.  
“I’m sulking,” Keith said, and it was the truth. A little too much of the truth, perhaps, since Shiro seemed taken aback by this honesty. He was used to Keith answering with the words “I’m fine” even when he was visibly not fine. Even when he was bleeding and in severe pain, Keith never let it show. And yet there he was, openly admitting that he was not fine.  
“What happened?” Shiro asked, his voice sympathetic and careful.  
It took a surprising amount of strength for Keith to answer this question. “We broke up,” he said after a long, painful pause.  
He looked up at Shiro to see him looking back with concern, his eyebrows furrowed, slightly confused. “What?”

And then Keith completely lost it. Those three words, though devoid of meaning since their relationship was not real in the first place, burned his tongue as he spoke them. They hit him hard with the realization that something, no matter how feeble and faint, was over between them. He realized, all at once, that keeping up pretense had filled him with hope. He realized, too, that he refused to let himself face his own feelings ever since that camping trip, that he promised himself to deal with this later, later, later, but later never came. But there was no running away now. The sobering truth was very simple, and as much as it was simple, it hurt. He had feelings for Lance, and those feelings could never be mutual. He ruined whatever hope he had with his stupid decision to tell Lance that he liked someone else, and now he was overwhelmed with this unavoidable feeling of helplessness.

“Yes, we…” he tried to explain, but his voice was unstable. He froze, feeling the tears threatening to choke him, knowing that one more word could easily push him over the edge.  
“Oh, Keith, I’m so sorry,” Shiro moved closer to place a comforting hand on his shoulder, and the tenderness in his voice was what broke Keith completely. He covered his face with his hands to hide his tears away from Shiro. He couldn’t see the immediate panic on Shiro’s face, but he could feel his hand tense against his back. Keith’s whole body shook as he sobbed into his hands, unable to hold back his emotions any longer.  
“Hey, no, come on,” Shiro moved closer to him and wrapped one arm around his shoulders, “it’s okay. It’s okay, come on.”  
Keith let Shiro wrap him in a slightly awkward embrace. He didn’t remove the hands from his face, but he let himself sob more freely now with Shiro’s arms around him. Shiro gave him some time to calm down, but Keith was unable to stop now that the walls came down.

He could hear Allura’s concerned voice, eventually. He could tell that Pidge was there, too, though his face remained buried in his hands and he could barely hear anything other than his own sobs. Shiro’s arms disappeared, only to be replaced by Allura’s more slender, gentle arms. She whispered words of comfort into his hair as she stroked his back with affection, attempting to sooth him. It took a while longer, but eventually Keith managed to calm down and come back to his senses. Allura let him leave, and Shiro joined him on his motorcycle for the ride home.

By the time they got home, Keith was able to speak again. Shiro made him some coffee and sat down with him in the living room, waiting for a more detailed explanation.  
“It just didn’t work out,” Keith attempted to get this over with.  
“Why?” Shiro asked, his voice quiet and collected, “I mean, I thought it was going so well for the both of you. This just seems to come out of nowhere. What happened?”  
Keith didn’t answer. He simply stared down at his coffee.  
“Did he… Do something?” Shiro tried.  
“No,” Keith shook his head, “if anything, it’s my fault. I think there was miscommunication, and I think… I think I didn’t say something that I should have said.”  
Shiro nodded carefully at that. Keith had no idea what he was saying, he was just trying to be as truthful as possible by being vague, but Shiro seemed to hear something reasonable in his words.  
“You know, I noticed that when I talked to him,” Shiro said, “he told me that he wasn’t very sure about your feelings towards him. I just thought… You know, I thought you’d take care of it soon enough. Besides, it is so obvious to anyone who looks that you really love him.”  
Keith’s eyes shot up, caught by surprise. “Love him?”

Shiro blinked at him. “Well, yes. You’ve been dating him this whole time without realizing that you love him?”  
“I don’t – “ Keith began, but he wasn’t able to say it, “it doesn’t matter, anyway. I didn’t let him know that – any of it, I didn’t let him in. And I totally blew it.”  
“Why didn’t you, though?” Shiro asked with genuine curiosity, “I thought… You know. You’ve been opening up to everyone so much lately. You let us in far closer than you’ve done before. Mom told me that you tell her a lot more about your life than you used to, and Pidge is happy to spend more time with you… And you’ve never told me so much about your personal life before, Keith. I was convinced that Lance was the one responsible for it. And for that reason, I was convinced that you’d be even more open with him.”  
“I was,” Keith admitted, “I was far more open with him than… Than with most people in my life. He knows things about me, intimate things, that no one else knows. But… The most important part, I guess, I kept hidden.”  
“But you can fix this,” Shiro told him, his voice suddenly hopeful, “you know what the problem is. You know what he wants to hear, right? Just tell him then. What’s holding you back?”

Keith knew exactly what was holding him back. It was the firm knowledge that Lance, in fact, did not want to hear what he had to say. It was the fear to be rejected, to screw it all up, to lose Lance as a friend above all else. But he could not say all this, so instead he just said: “I’m scared.”

Shiro smiled at him sympathetically as he placed a warm hand on his shoulder. “I know,” he said, “love is a scary thing. Admitting your feelings is scary. But I think, in your situation, it’s necessary. Why throw away a chance at a perfect relationship out of fear?”  
Keith thought about it. Then he looked up to his brother, a hint of a smile on his lips.  
“Why don’t you tell Allura then?”

Shiro pushed him away playfully, shaking his head with a smile. “Stop it,” he said, “you’re all teasing me about this. You know why I can’t tell her.”  
“No, I don’t,” Keith told him, “enlighten me.”  
“Well, it’s not like what you have with Lance,” Shiro explained, “you already know that he likes you. He knows that you like him, too. You just need to say the words. With Allura… There’s no way to tell how she feels. It’s like going in blind.”  
“You really are blind,” Keith informed him, “if you think that there’s even a slight chance that she doesn’t like you as much as you like her.”  
“How do you know that?”  
“It’s obvious, Shiro. I’m more confident in Allura’s feelings for you than in Lance’s feelings for me.”  
“That’s crazy,” Shiro dismissed him, “I’ve never seen love as obvious as the one in Lance’s heart for you.”  
It only made Keith feel worse, knowing how misguided Shiro’s words were.  
“You must tell her.”  
“I’ll tell her if you tell Lance,” Shiro countered. Keith looked up, surprised.  
“What?”  
“I mean it,” Shiro told him, “I’ll tell her if you tell him. Can we do that? Can we make an agreement?”  
Keith watched his brother’s face very carefully. His world already felt as if it was on fire, and telling Lance didn’t feel like the worst option anymore. If his confession could help Shiro confess, too, he was ready to try it.

“Yeah, okay,” Keith nodded, “if you tell her, I’ll tell him.”  
“Oh, crap,” Shiro seemed nervous, “I didn’t think you’d actually agree to this. Okay, so I guess I have to tell her. How do I tell her?”  
“With your mouth, Shiro,” Keith told him.  
“Yeah, but what exactly do I say? Do I have to do this in person? Can't I just ask someone else to tell her for me?”  
“We’re not in fourth grade, Shiro,” Keith told him, “next you’re going to suggest writing her a note in crayon, saying ‘do u like me? yes / no’.”  
“Yeah, sounds like a good idea,” Shiro nodded, “I’m going to do that.”  
Keith punched him lightly on the shoulder and called him an idiot, but he felt slightly better by then.

He couldn’t deny that being closer to Shiro this way felt good. Perhaps it was the crying, or the fact that he didn’t need to lie to Shiro anymore, or perhaps it was just the realization that there was not much else he could do. Whatever it was – he felt relieved.

* * *

 

“You broke up?” Hunk asked, walking into Lance’s room at the end of the day. Lance was still wearing his Blue Lion attire even though his last client left three hours ago. He was lying on his bed, staring up at the ceiling, doing nothing in particular.  
“Huh?”  
“Shay told me,” Hunk said, coming into the room and sitting down on the bed beside him, “she said Keith was talking to Shiro and told him that you two broke up. She said that Keith looked completely broken. What the hell is going on?”  
“He did?” Lance raised his head for a moment, then he let it drop back down onto the mattress, “I guess he’s a good actor then. Good for him. Yes, we decided to end our fake relationship.”  
“Why?” Hunk asked.  
“Because,” Lance sighed, “well, I don’t know if I can tell you. Keith told me something, and it might be a secret.”  
“Oh?”  
“Promise you won’t tell.”  
“You know I won’t, buddy.”  
“Keith told me that he likes someone. He likes… Some guy.”  
“He said that?”

“Yes,” Lance covered his eyes with his hands, the light suddenly felt like too much, “he told me that there’s someone he likes. I don’t want to get in the way of his happiness, you know? And he was tired of lying to Shiro, anyway.”  
“Hmm,” Hunk hummed, “I guess I just expected you guys to end up in a real relationship eventually. I didn’t think you’d have to break up.”  
“Yeah, I thought so too,” Lance admitted, because there was no point in denying it anymore, “I hoped so. That’s my mistake, Hunk, I let myself hope. I knew that Keith is uncomfortable around me, I knew that he never let us get too close, I knew this would have to end someday, and yet… And yet I let myself hope, like a fool.”  
“You’re not a fool for hoping, don’t say that,” Hunk moved closer to lie down beside Lance, “I’m really sorry it didn’t work out. I was so sure that he likes you.”  
“You know, sometimes I thought so too,” Lance confessed, “sometimes he would look at me kind of softly, and smile, and then cover his face with his hand as if he could hide that smile away from me. Or, some of the things he did… Like keeping a box of my favorite herbal tea at their place. Or watching horror movies alone before we watched them together just so he could warn me about the scary parts. Who does that? Is that just a friendly thing that friends do? I feel like I don’t know anything anymore.”  
Hunk carefully removed the bracelets and rings from Lance’s hands, literally taking off the weight he was carrying. “This is really strange,” he agreed.  
“And you know what the worst part is?” Lance smiled bitterly, “I was going to tell him. Hell, I almost confessed right there in the kitchen. And then the thing with Ethan – you should’ve heard him, Hunk! He sounded like a jealous boyfriend, for real. I think I fell in love with him a little bit then. Man, it sounded so real, I thought that if that was acting, then he should get a damn Oscar for that performance. So when he said that he wanted to tell me something, I… My heart went crazy. I thought _this is it_. I thought he was going to tell me. But he didn’t.” Lance’s voice dropped to a whisper. Hunk looked at him, tears in his eyes, ready to lock him in a tower with a dragon on top just to shield him from the cruelty of the world. He leaned down and squeezed Lance in a crushing embrace.

“This is so unfair,” Hunk told him once he finally let go of him to let him breathe, “life is so cruel sometimes.”  
“What do I do now, Hunk?” Lance told him, his tone miserable, “what if he asks this guy out? What if they start dating? What if he starts bringing him to game nights and just to hang out with us in general? I could barely react properly when he told me that, how am I supposed to behave around this guy he likes?”  
“Well,” Hunk thought about it for a moment, “let’s see. Keith is your friend. What do you usually do when your friend likes someone?”  
“I tease them to death about it,” Lance poked at Hunk’s side.  
Hunk swatted at his hand, but he was smiling. “Yes, that too,” he said, “but you also support them. You’re still his friend, you should be there for him. It’s okay if you need some time to process it – “  
“No, you’re right,” Lance nodded, “Keith doesn’t know that I’m heartbroken. He can’t know. I need to be supportive, that’s what he’s counting on. That’s why he told me, right? I wonder if he’s told anyone else.”  
“I haven’t heard anything,” Hunk said, “and Pidge loves to gossip. I don’t know.”  
“Right, okay,” Lance rolled to the side of the bed to reach his phone.  
“What are you doing?” Hunk asked, peeking over his shoulder.  
“Texting Keith,” Lance said, “I need to make it seem like I’m totally fine with this.”

He typed out a message, saying: “you haven’t told me anything about this guy. Are you hiding him from me? Is he hideous?”  
Then he passed his phone over to Hunk to review the message.  
“That’s not something I would say,” Hunk admitted, “but it seems like something that you would tell him, so I guess it’s good.”  
Lance covered his face with his hands. “I hate this,” he said, breathing out with frustration, “I hate this so much. Does this make me selfish?”  
“Don’t do that to yourself,” Hunk told him, “you have the right to feel things. It’s your actions that count.”

His phone dinged with Keith’s response then. “No,” said the text. And then there was another. “He’s very attractive, actually. I think you’d like him.”  
“Damn,” Lance said, “I don’t think I’ve ever heard Keith admit that someone is attractive. He must really like that guy.”  
Hunk stroke his hair. “Do you want to go out for a drink with me? Help you unwind a little?”  
“I don’t think I can face the world,” Lance reached to grab a pillow and cover his face with it, “I’m leaving society for good.”  
“We can go dancing,” Hunk suggested, “I’ll let you dress me up. You can use glitter.”  
Lance moved the pillow away, looking up at Hunk. “You’ll let me do your make-up?”  
“Sure,” Hunk smiled, “whatever makes you feel better.”  
Lance sat up at once and jumped off the bed. “Let’s go drown my sorrows in glitter and music, then.”

 

Keith was doing nothing in particular as he texted back and forth with Lance. He still had no idea how he was supposed to confess, and he secretly hoped that Shiro would chicken out and call off their agreement. In the meantime, he toyed with the idea of giving Lance real hints about his crush, wondering how far he could push it.

 _Show me a picture of him_ , Lance demanded.  
**I don’t think it’s fair to him** , Keith replied.  
_What does that mean?_  
**I’d like to respect his privacy.**  
_You have some issues, you know that?_  
**Yes. Still not showing you a picture.**  
_Fine. Describe him then?_

Keith thought about it for a moment.

 **He’s tall. He has beautiful blue eyes, and the most charming smile. He's so dreamy.**  
_Nothing. You’re giving me nothing. Describe his ass._

Keith wanted to set himself on fire. He could never say these things to Lance directly, but since he had no idea it was about him, it was fine.

 **Oh, he has a great ass.  
**_Gasp! You looked at his ass?  
_**Oh, as if you don’t look at people’s asses.  
**_Of course I do, but this isn’t about me. I thought you were a pure, wholesome virgin, blushing at the thought of holding hands with someone.  
_**I’m none of the above** , was all Keith said in reply.

Lance didn’t reply to that, so Keith went into the kitchen to make himself a bowl of cereal. On his way he found Pidge in the living room, lying face down on the floor, papers scattered all around and an empty bag of Doritos beside them.  
“You okay, Pidge?” he asked.  
“Everything is terrible. We’re all going to die. Time is an illusion and I am feeling the weight of mortality on my shoulders.”  
“The usual, then?”  
“This project is going to send me to the grave!” they exclaimed, flipping over to lie on their back.  
“You should take a break,” Keith said, now properly concerned, “how long have you been in here?”  
“Hours. Days. Centuries. It’s been forever since I last felt sunshine upon my skin.”  
“Yup, that’s enough work for now,” Keith crouched beside them, picking up the papers and arranging them in a neat stack.  
“What are you doing?” they asked.  
“Grab your jacket, we’re going out,” Keith decided.  
“Where to?”  
“I don’t know, wherever you want. Someplace that isn’t this stupid apartment. You need to breathe some fresh air.”  
“I like you in Dad Mode,” Pidge mused, smiling a little, “maybe we can go eat something. Give me five minutes.”

While Keith waited for Pidge to get ready, he glanced at his phone. Lance hadn’t replied yet, and he was getting nervous, immediately overthinking everything. When Pidge came out, he made the mistake of showing them the conversation. They roared with laughter.  
“He hasn’t replied,” Keith said once they calmed down a little.  
“Oh, I think he’s just busy,” they said, “I just talked to Hunk, they went out to drink. Hey, maybe we should join them.”  
“What.”  
“Don’t ‘what’ me, you wanted me to take a break. We’re taking a break. Let’s go meet the boys.”

Keith protested, but Pidge really needed a distraction and he wanted to be there for them the way they often were for him. They rode the motorcycle, with Pidge giving him directions since he had no idea where that club was located. He wasn’t a fan of nightclubs, but he was willing to tolerate the loud music and the crowded setting for Pidge’s sake.

It took them a while to find Hunk, and when they did, Hunk seemed concerned. Pidge was amused by how colorful Hunk’s face was, but Keith immediately sensed that something was wrong.  
“What’s going on?” he asked Hunk.  
“I got distracted for exactly twelve seconds,” he said, “and I’ve lost Lance. He had quite a few drinks already, I’m a little worried about him.”  
“Stay here,” Keith said, “I’ll go look for him. Pidge – “ he turned around to look at Pidge, but they already acquired a drink somehow and seemed distracted by the music.  
“Never mind. Hunk, keep an eye on them, will you? I’ll be right back.”

Keith pushed his way past people, trying to get a better look around him. The atmosphere was rather overwhelming. It was hot, and people seemed a little too sweaty, and the smell of alcohol was unavoidable. He tried to be thorough, to check every corner. Eventually, he found Lance by the wall, down on his knees and touching the floor with his hands.  
“Lance?” Keith tapped him on the shoulder, “what are you doing?”  
Lance seemed startled to see him at first, but then he squealed with delight, got up on his feet and threw his arms around Keith.  
“Keith!” he called, “you’re here, too! Why are you here?”  
“I’m here with Pidge,” Keith said, trying to push Lance away from him, “are you alright?”  
“I’m not,” Lance said, finally letting go of him, “I lost my earring. Help me find it.” He dropped to the floor again, searching it for the lost earring.

“Lance, that floor is really dirty,” Keith attempted to pull him back up, “and both of your earrings are in your ears, what are you talking about?”  
Lance reached up to check his earlobes. “Oh,” he said, “I thought I felt it falling.”  
“Don’t touch your face – stop it,” Keith grabbed at his wrists, feeling like Lance was a misbehaving child, “let’s go to the bathroom.”  
“Ooh, Keith wants to take me to the bathroom,” Lance said, wiggling his eyebrows. Keith ignored him and pulled him by the wrist to where he remembered the bathroom was. Once inside, he led Lance to the sink and helped him wash his hands.  
“Is that what you brought me to the bathroom for?” Lance asked once he wiped his hands on his jeans, clearly disappointed.

“Yes,” Keith told him, “we can go back to Hunk now.”  
He led him back out of the bathroom. Lance cooperated at first, but halfway through the dancefloor he stopped and spun Keith around to face him.  
“Come dance with me, Keith,” he shouted over the music, swaying his hips with an inviting smile on his face.  
“I can’t dance,” Keith told him, “and we should really get back to Hunk. He’s worried about you.”  
“Come on, Keith,” Lance bumped him with his shoulder, “just one quick dance, Hunk will be just fine.”  
Keith sighed, but he let Lance have his way. He stood motionless, arms folded tightly on his chest, watching as Lance moved his body with impressive skill. His movements were smooth like a serpent’s, his spine curling into shapes Keith didn’t know were possible. And yet his eyes stayed glued to Keith, warm and eager.

“Can’t you loosen up a bit?” Lance asked him, reaching up to touch Keith’s shoulders, “you don’t have to be an exceptional dancer for this. Just… Relax.” His hands slid down Keith’s arms, carefully unfolding them and encouraging Keith to move.  
“How much did you drink?” Keith asked.  
“Not nearly enough,” Lance replied, his hands reaching back up to wrap around Keith’s shoulders, “why? Would you like to see me drunk?”  
“Quite the opposite,” Keith told him, “I think you’ve had enough.”  
“Keith, hey Keith,” Lance smiled, “don’t be a stick in the mud. I’m having fun. Why won’t you let me have fun? I thought you liked my dancing. Or do you only have eyes for that guy you have a crush on now?”  
“I like your dancing,” Keith told him, “just not when you’re this drunk.”  
“I don’t believe you,” Lance pouted, “you like him more than you like me, don’t you? What, is he so much better than me? Tell me, Keith. Tell me, is he hotter than me?”  
Keith smiled at that, because the question made no sense, not from his perspective. Lance didn’t interpret his smile well.  
“You think he’s hotter than me,” he accused him, “well, mister, it’s your loss. I’m smoking hot. And you know what? I’m also charming. Your crush may be hot, but can he do… This?”

Lance let go of him and started dancing on his own, performing the most ridiculous moves Keith had ever seen. There were embarrassing pelvic thrusts, some very awkward twerking, a surprising amount of finger guns and it all ended with a dab. Keith couldn’t stop laughing at this. Lance seemed to be under the impression that he was performing the dance of the century, and it was the funniest thing Keith had seen in years. He had tears in his eyes when Lance finally pulled him aside, sweaty and breathless.

“Well?” he asked, “can he? Can your crush do this?”  
“Oh, he definitely can’t,” Keith decided to humor him, “that was… One of a kind.”  
“Ha,” Lance smiled, “I thought so. See? It doesn’t matter that he’s hotter than me, because – “  
“He’s not,” Keith cut him off.  
“He’s not?” Lance blinked at him.  
“No,” Keith smiled at him affectionately, “he’s not hotter than you, Lance. You’re a very handsome guy, okay?”  
“Would you say…” Lance moved closer, batting his eyelashes at him a little out of sync, clearly too drunk to know what he was doing, “that I’m the most handsome guy you know?”  
“Mmm,” Keith pulled him a little closer, so he would hear him over the music, “if I say that you are, will you come back to Hunk with me?”  
“Yes,” Lance smiled, “but you have to mean it.”  
“Sure,” Keith took his hand into his, “you’re the most handsome guy I know. By far.”  
“Suck it, Crush Guy,” Lance said, not exactly addressing Keith.  
“Are we calling him Crush Guy now?”  
“You never told me his name,” Lance said, “what else am I supposed to call him?”  
For a moment, Keith considered telling him. The thought was incredibly tempting. The moment felt right, there was a chance that Lance wouldn’t even remember the confession, and he felt unusually bold that night. He knew, however, that this was a bad idea.  
“How about Mr. Cutie?” he said instead.  
Lance grimaced. “Mr. Cutie,” he said, “I hate it.”  
“Still better than Crush Guy.”  
“I beg to differ,” Lance said, but it was hard to take him seriously when he was barely able to stand straight. Keith rolled his eyes and pulled him by the hand again, finally making his way back to Hunk.

“Oh, this is worse than I thought,” Hunk said as Lance climbed to sit on his lap and asked why his face was so sparkly, “when did you manage to get so drunk? I swear I turned around for one brief moment.”  
“I think you should take him home,” Keith said, “before he does something stupid. Wait, where’s Pidge?”  
“Over there,” Hunk gestured to the corner, where Pidge seemed to be engaged in a heated argument with three strangers, “they’re having fun. I think this is going to take a while.”  
“Shit,” said Keith, “I was hoping to go back home soon. I have a morning shift tomorrow. What a mistake, taking them out like this so late.”  
“I can stay with Pidge,” Hunk suggested, “if you take Lance home.”  
Keith looked over at Lance, who was now struggling to figure out how to climb onto a bar stool. “Do you think it would be safe to put him on a motorcycle like this?”  
“He’ll be fine,” Hunk waved a dismissive hand at him, “the fear will sober him up a little. What do you say?”  
“Sure,” said Keith, “text me when you get back home.”  
“You too,” Hunk nodded.

Keith had to practically drag Lance out of the club. He still seemed cheerful, until they reached the spot where Keith had parked his motorcycle.  
“Oh, it’s your stupid Hell on Wheels,” Lance said.  
“I’m taking you home,” Keith told him, passing him a helmet, “put this on.”  
“Aww, Keith, you care about me!” Lance dismissed the helmet and wrapped his hands around Keith’s shoulders again.  
“You’re so clingy when you’re drunk,” Keith noted.  
“Correction, I am clingy always, at all times,” Lance told him, now fully hugging him and resting his head on Keith’s shoulder.  
“Can you please put the helmet on and just let me take you home already?”  
“I don’t wanna,” Lance pouted, “I hate your motorcycle. Besides, I want to stay here and dance forever.”  
“If you let me take you home now, I’ll dance with you,” Keith said, his voice a little sweeter than usual.  
“Really?” Lance’s eyes lit up, “you’ll do that? And you’ll actually move?”  
“Oh, I will,” Keith promised, because he knew he could deny ever saying it later, “I’ll move like there’s no tomorrow. I’ll make a total fool of myself, you have my word.”  
“Okay,” Lance smiled, “then… You can take me home.”  
Lance finally cooperated and put on the helmet. The ride wasn't long, but it felt like forever. Lance was hugging him tightly from behind, which Keith was thankful for, since he was constantly worried that he might lose his grip and fall off. His goal wasn’t to scare Lance this time, so he drove a little slower and more carefully than ever. Surprisingly, Lance seemed to enjoy the ride. Instead of screaming with fear, he let out some delighted “woo”s. At one point, he even urged Keith to pick up the speed. “Faster, Keith,” he yelled, “go faster, what are you afraid of?” But Keith was smarter than that, and he kept his steady pace, thinking only about the drunk boy’s safety.

When they finally arrived, Keith helped Lance to get into bed. Keith knew damn well that Lance would rather wake up in a ditch but with moisturized skin than in his own bed with a face covered in last night’s make-up. He grabbed a few cotton balls from Lance’s vanity, dipped them in the make-up remover and carefully wiped Lance’s face clean. Lance didn’t seem to protest at all, suddenly obedient in his hands.   
“All right,” Keith said, “now… Now you put this on, right?” he held up a tiny tube that had a moon symbol on it, guessing that it was a night cream.  
“You know me so well,” Lance practically melted. Keith rubbed the cream onto his face, his fingers gentle and hesitant. Finally, he told Lance to take his clothes off.  
He watched Lance struggle with the buttons on his shirt for two whole minutes before he gave up and reached to help him.  
“Ooh, you’re taking my clothes off,” Lance giggled when Keith reached to unbutton his jeans, “you know, if you wanted to get in my pants, you could’ve just told me.”  
“I hope you feel really embarrassed in the morning,” Keith told him as he pulled his jeans down, “because I’m going to make fun of you for this night. A lot.”

Lance fell back onto the bed, burying his face in the pillow, ignoring Keith’s mocking.  
“Ready to sleep now?” Keith asked him as he folded the clothes and put them on the chair by the desk for later.  
“Aren’t you coming to bed with me?” Lance asked.  
“I have a shift in a few hours,” Keith told him, “I need to get back home.”  
“No,” Lance whined, grabbing Keith’s wrist and pulling him onto the bed, “don’t go to work tomorrow. Stay with me.”  
Keith stumbled under Lance’s surprisingly strong grip. He sat down beside him.  
“I’ll stay until you fall asleep,” he told him, “now close your eyes.”  
“I’m not even tired,” Lance said, immediately contradicting himself with a yawn.  
“Mmm-hmm,” Keith covered him with the blanket, “I see. Close your eyes.”

Lance finally closed his eyes. Keith reached to stroke his hair, his touch soothing, attempting to help him fall asleep faster. Lance leaned into the touch.  
“Keith,” he said quietly, his eyes still closed.  
“What?”  
“I want to tell you something.”  
“What?”  
“Come closer, I want to whisper it to you.”  
Keith rolled his eyes, because he knew for a fact that it was going to be something stupid. Nevertheless, he lay down beside Lance and moved closer to him, Lance's hair tickling his forehead.  
“What?” Keith asked again, in a half whisper.  
“It's about Mr. Cutie,” Lance breathed, “if he really doesn’t like you back, then he’s the biggest idiot on Earth.”  
Keith froze with surprise, but his lips immediately stretched into a wide smile. What a dork, he thought. What a stupid, sweet, ridiculous, infuriating, wonderful dork.

He turned to look at him. Lance’s eyes were still closed, and he was breathing slowly. There was no indication that he was still awake. Keith had an overwhelming desire to kiss him softly on the forehead. Instead, he ran a hand through his hair for one last time, got up from the bed, went to the kitchen to pour a large glass of water and place it on Lance’s bedside cabinet, and left.

 

The next day, Keith cursed every person who decided to go eat at a restaurant first thing in the morning. He was way too sleepy, and the day seemed to stretch out forever. He was having a casual chat with Allura when Shiro came into the restaurant.

“It’s not time for my break yet,” Keith told him when he approached.  
“I’m not here for you,” Shiro said, giving Allura a meaningful look, “I need to tell Allura something very important.”  
“Ah, I see,” Keith smiled, “I’ll give you two some privacy then.”  
“No, wait,” Shiro said, “stay here. I don’t think Allura would mind.”  
“Of course not,” Allura smiled, “what is it, Shiro?”

He then reached into his pocket and took out a folded piece of paper. He passed it to her.  
“What’s this?” she asked curiously, unfolding the paper with careful fingers.  
A memory surfaced in Keith’s mind, and he clapped a hand to his mouth. “No, please tell me you didn’t,” he said.  
He peeked over Allura’s shoulder to read the note. It was written in crayon. It said: “do u like me? yes / no”.  
Allura let out a cheerful, melodic laugh.  
“This is my confession,” Shiro said, his face red and his hands restless, “I really like you, and I’d like to ask you out on a date. Not a platonic one.”  
Allura laughed for a few more moments, shaking her head shyly, not exactly giving him an answer but not discouraging him either.  
“That’s the worst way imaginable to ask someone out,” Keith told him.  
“Hey, it made her laugh,” Shiro shrugged, “clichés exist for a reason. They can be nice sometimes.”  
“Keith, may I have your pen, please?” Allura asked. He reached into his pocket and handed her his pen.  
Silently, she circled the word “yes” a few more times than was necessary and passed the note back to Shiro.

And that was that. They decided on the date, and they hugged, and Shiro was about to leave. Before he did, however, he leaned closer to Keith and said, very quietly: “I held up my end of the bargain. Your move, Keith.”

* * *

“Hunk, I think I fucked up,” Lance said as he walked into the kitchen when Hunk got home. He had to cancel his clients for the day, because he was too hungover to work. Hunk put on his apron and turned around to let Lance tie it for him.  
“You have to be more specific than that, Lance,” Hunk chuckled.  
“I think I said some embarrassing things to Keith last night,” Lance told him, now taking a seat at the table, “and I think there was some… Very questionable dancing involved. And oh god, was there a motorcycle ride? Hunk, how could you let that happen?”  
“You had too much to drink,” Hunk shrugged, “Keith wanted to leave, Pidge wanted to party. Hey, he got you home safe and sound.”  
“Crap, we totally talked about his crush,” Lance rubbed his eyes with frustration, “there’s no way he doesn’t know that I like him. Hunk, there’s no way. I acted like a jealous idiot. And did we agree to call his crush Mr. Cutie? That was such a weird night…”  
“Look, if Keith hasn’t figured out that you like him by now, he never will,” Hunk said as he turned on the oven, “you could tell him outright that you like him, and he’d probably say something like ‘oh, that’s nice, you’re such a sweet friend’, you know?”  
“I guess you’re right,” Lance said, “I just hope it doesn’t bite me in the ass. I do remember him promising me to make fun of that night forever. But I’m just going to deny everything and say that I remember nothing.”  
“Good idea.”  
They had dinner together and chatted some more. By the time they were done and were about to wash the dishes, the doorbell rang.

Lance opened the door, surprised to find Keith standing there. Even though he was a constant guest at their place, he would usually at least text to let them know that he was on his way. Lance felt a little too aware of his messy hair and the old T-shirt he was wearing. “Keith?”  
“Hey, I need to talk to you,” Keith said, letting himself in. Sometimes he really reminded him of Shiro.  
“What’s up?” Lance asked, “is everything okay?”  
“Yes,” Keith said, “don’t worry, it’s not anything bad. Hi, Hunk.”  
“Keith! How’s Pidge doing after last night?” Hunk turned around, wiping his hands on the dishtowel.  
“They’re fine,” Keith smiled, “they made a bunch of friends last night, apparently. Do you mind if I steal Lance from you for a sec?”  
“You can steal him for as long as you want,” Hunk chuckled, “I’ll be in my room if you need me.”

Keith led Lance into the living room. They sat down on the couch, the air tense between them.  
“If it’s about last night,” Lance began, “I’m really sorry, I was so drunk – “  
“Relax,” Keith stopped him, placing a warm hand on his knee. Lance shivered. “Everything was fine last night,” Keith assured him, “you were being a little silly, but… You always are. And I’ve never laughed so hard in my entire life.”  
Lance smiled, even though it wasn’t quite a compliment. “What is it, then?”  
“Give me a moment,” Keith said, “stay here, I’ll be right back.”

Keith got up from the couch and disappeared down the hall. Lance thought that he went to the bathroom, but then he heard what was unmistakably the door to his bedroom being opened. He wanted to get up and see what Keith was doing, but he was told to stay there, so he did.  
Keith came back a few moments later and sat down on the couch a little closer to him than he usually would.  
“Remember the guy I have a crush on?” Keith said, his voice trembling a little. Lance had a bad feeling about this.  
“Yeah,” he said, “Mr. Cutie, you called him. What’s wrong? Did he do something?”  
“No,” Keith smiled, but his lips trembled at the edges, “he’s… Really amazing, actually. I want to show you a picture of him.”  
“Finally,” Lance smiled, “I can’t wait to see your taste in men.”

Then Keith took something out of his pocket and placed it in Lance’s hands. Lance turned it over. He knew the object. It was a small rectangular mirror he had on the desk in his room.  
“Keith, this is a mirror,” he said stupidly.  
“Yes…” Keith said, letting him reach the conclusion on his own.

And then it all clicked into place. It was him. It had been him all along.  
Lance slapped a hand to his mouth in shock. “It’s me,” he said from behind his hand, “I’m Mr. Cutie.”  
Keith was smiling, but his whole body was shaking now. “Yes, you are. But before you say anything… I really want to make this easy for you. You don’t need to worry about anything, okay? I already know that you don’t feel that way, and it’s okay. Nothing has to change. You’re more important to me as a friend than anything else. I just want you to be happy, so you – “  
Lance reached up and pressed his hand against Keith’s mouth to shut him up. Keith froze, looking at him with confusion.

“Keith, Keith, Keith,” Lance shook his head, his heart racing, “listen. Listen to me, Keith. We’re the biggest idiots on this planet. We’re so stupid. Both of us. The dumbass and his dumbass friend.”  
Keith blinked at him, even more confused than before.  
“Listen, Keith,” Lance continued, “do you know the cashier in the convenience store across the street? She knows that I like you. Don’t ask me how, she just told me one day. My mother knows that I like you, she knew it before I knew it. Coran knows that I like you and he doesn’t even know the word ‘bisexual’. He doesn't know shit, Keith, but he knows that I like you. The goddamn sun knows that I like you, apparently, because it definitely mocks me sometimes with the way its light hits your face just right to make me weak in the knees. But you, you oblivious fuck, you somehow missed it?”

He let go of Keith’s mouth then, letting his hand drop down to Keith’s lap. “What do you have to say for yourself?” he asked.  
Keith smiled the dorkiest, sweetest smile he’d ever seen in his life. “You like me?” he asked, his voice a little too high pitched.  
“Shut up,” Lance told him, mirroring his smile, “you told me that you like me first. You’re not allowed to try and embarrass me.”  
“You like me,” Keith said, not a question anymore, “why didn’t you tell me?”  
“Why didn’t _you_ tell me?” Lance replied, “wait, wait, wait. All the things you told me about your crush – that was about me!”  
Keith’s face turned three shades redder. “I didn’t think this through.”  
Lance immediately grabbed his phone to read back their messages, but Keith snatched it out of his hand and tossed it onto the armchair.  
“You told me something about my beautiful eyes!” Lance said, “you called me attractive, Keith. You looked at my ass!”  
“Yes, I did,” Keith said, clearly embarrassed but seemingly unable to hold back now, “are you happy now? I did. I think you're hot. I think you’re talented, and smart, and funny, and very, very hot. I have a massive crush on you and I want to kiss your face.”

“But wait,” Lance remembered something then, “aren’t you uncomfortable with me? You always turn away, create some distance between us when we’re too close.”  
Keith took a deep breath, and then he told him everything. He told him about how he couldn’t trust himself to keep his feelings hidden, how he was always worried about creeping Lance out, how being around him made him sad with longing and nervous at the same time. They talked about all the things they couldn’t talk about. The way they both went on that camping trip hoping to spend more time alone with one another, Shiro’s involvement – Lance already knew about his confession, since Allura sent him a picture of the crayon written note – and how perhaps their fake relationship wasn’t that fake after all. They sank lower into the couch, asking each other the questions they were scared to ask before, not holding back anymore and laying all the cards out on the table.

Then Lance took Keith’s hand into his. “What are you going to tell Shiro?” he asked at last.  
“Well,” Keith squeezed his hand tightly, “he’ll ask whether we’re back together. Are we… Together?”  
Lance moved closer, a sheepish smile on his face. “I don’t know,” he said, “you tell me. Are we?”  
“Can I kiss you as an answer?” Keith asked. It seemed bold, coming from Keith. Lance liked it. He moved away for a moment, pretending to think about it. Then he leaned in closer again, their foreheads almost touching.  
“Yes, you can.”

He expected Keith to be shy and reserved as he always seemed. But Keith did not come there to play. He took Lance’s face in his hands and closed the distance between them, pressing their lips together hard, digging his fingers into Lance’s hair and holding him there, as if worried that Lance might try to escape. Escaping was the last thing Lance wanted to do. He let Keith pull him in, kissing him back just as eagerly, melting into the warm touch. His hands found Keith’s hips, feeling familiar yet so very new, and he pulled him even closer. Keith’s breath was hot against his lips, getting hotter as their kiss deepened, making Lance dizzy and overwhelmed. He pulled back for a second, opening his eyes to look at Keith’s beautiful, flushed face.  
“Just so we’re clear,” said Lance, a little out of breath, “your answer is yes, right?”  
Keith grinned. “Are we always going to be idiots who need everything spelled out for them?” he asked.  
“Pretty much,” Lance shrugged.  
“Yes, it's a yes. As long as you want it, of course.”  
“I’ve never wanted anything more in my entire life.”  
“Then shut your damn mouth and let me kiss you already,” Keith said, his smile so sweet it sounded more like a plea than a demand.

Lance pulled him back into the kiss, returning it now with even more enthusiasm, pulling Keith on top of him. Then there was a yelp coming from behind them, and they pulled apart to look at Hunk, who was standing there shocked with an empty glass in his hand.  
“Don’t mind me!” he said, immediately covering his eyes with a hand, “I’m not even here! I’m just going to go into the kitchen – “ he attempted to walk with his eyes still covered, but he immediately bumped into the wall – “ouch. Just ignore me!”

Keith buried his face in Lance’s shoulder, embarrassed but clearly amused.  
“It’s okay, Hunk,” Lance called, “nothing is happening. You don’t have to – “  
“No, no, I don’t want to interrupt anything,” Hunk said as he emerged from the kitchen again, his glass full this time, “you go ahead and do whatever you were doing. Oh, wait just a second,” he walked back into the kitchen, reached into one of the drawers and threw something at them. “Please let me know when you’re done, I will be listening to loud music with my headphones on, so you have nothing to worry about.”

Lance picked up the small square thrown at them, realizing what it was. “No, Hunk, we’re not going to – wait, why do we have condoms in our kitchen drawers?”  
“Don’t ask questions you don’t want to hear the answers to,” Hunk told him before disappearing down the hall.  
Lance turned back to look at Keith. “I think we have Hunk’s blessing,” he said, holding up the condom.  
“Right,” Keith snatched it out of his hand and put it in his pocket, “take me on a few dates first, then we’ll see.”  
“Hey, we’ve been on plenty of dates,” Lance complained, not sure why he was even arguing against this since he certainly wasn’t going to fuck Keith right there and then.  
“You’ll have to try harder than that,” Keith moved closer to whisper in his ear, “real dates, Lance. And this time I’m not letting you win the race.”  
Lance gasped. “You want to play, Kogane? You think you can be a better boyfriend than me?”  
“I know I can,” Keith told him, planting a small kiss on his cheek, “and I will prove it to you. Just you wait.”  
“Oh, we’ll see about that,” Lance turned his head and caught Keith’s lips with his own. They kissed for a while longer. They kissed until their lips were swollen and their heads were dizzy. They kissed until it was time to sleep, and then they went to share Lance’s bed, and then they kissed more until they were too tired to keep their eyes open anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is the reason why I was on the fence about posting this fic. It feels very personal, because I used many elements from my own life in it. I ended up projecting on Keith so much in this fic. But I guess this is why we have fanfic in the first place, we come here for consolation.  
> Anyway, I really hope you guys like it, and tune in next time for a sweet, wholesome epilogue.


	13. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The story comes to a soft, happy conclusion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my apologies for taking so long with this, life decided to unleash hell upon me recently. but here we are.  
> I would like to give a warm shout out to oresamawesome on instagram, who cosplayed Lance from this au better than I could ever imagine it. you can check out the photoshoot she did here:  
> https://www.instagram.com/p/BieweTkDOz0/  
> https://www.instagram.com/p/BiexEE9j1pm/  
> it's absolutely fantastic and I am in complete awe of this piece of art. I cannot believe that my work has inspired someone to create something at all, let alone something this fantastic!  
> also, check out the note at the end for a bonus NSFW scene, if you're interested in that kind of content.

“Aaand team Boyfriends officially wins with a total of 17 points!” Pidge announced, revealing the scoreboard.   
Lance turned around and high-fived his boyfriend, proud of their victory. Allura seemed extremely displeased. “You cheated,” she accused them.  
“No, we didn’t! We won fair and square. How would we even cheat?” Lance complained.   
“I don’t know,” she said, “but there’s just no way you would be able to get that. How was that a ‘snake’?”  
Allura referred to Lance attempting to mime biting Hunk’s butt.  
Keith smiled. “Well, we both know that Hunk was bitten by a snake that one time, so it was obvious.”  
“Oh, really? Then what the fuck was up with ‘lavender’?” she asked.  
For that, Lance had mimed massaging his head with a smile on his face.  
“Clearly, he was depicting washing his hair,” Keith explained, “and he really likes his shampoo, which is lavender scented. If anything, Pidge is the one who’s cheating. Who the fuck uses lavender as a word for charades?”  
Everyone turned to look at Pidge, who didn’t seem bothered by that. “I have to think of something more challenging for you guys,” they said, “otherwise it would be boring. It’s interesting that you’re complaining about that, but no one said a thing when the word was ‘fishfucker’.”  
“I still think you cheated,” Allura said when none of them commented on Pidge’s observation, “you were shit at charades. There’s no way you just suddenly got this good.”  
“We didn’t,” Keith shrugged. He didn’t explain any further, but he was telling the truth.

It wasn’t that they were suddenly good at charades, they were simply a lot better at understanding one another. Three months into their real relationship, they learned to understand each other’s thought process a lot better. They would often play all kinds of association games, mostly because Keith was fascinated by Lance’s unique way of connecting things. More importantly, they were genuinely interested in thoroughly knowing one another. Lance could listen for hours as Keith rambled about the things he liked, never getting bored, occasionally asking encouraging questions. They would ask each other simple questions, trivial questions, and they were always interested to hear the answer, no matter how mundane.

“I think,” said Lance, “you’re just being a sore loser, Allura.”  
By some miracle, team Pure Angels managed to score one point more than team Shallura did, which was particularly ironic since Allura was the one to suggest the forfeit this time.  
“I think someone just doesn’t want to get eggshells in her hair,” Pidge agreed.   
Allura complained for a short while more, but she did not resist when Shiro took her by the hand to lead her to the bathroom.   
Allura had to change into one of Hunk’s old shirts, which was large and baggy on her, fitting more like a dress than a shirt. Shiro simply stripped down to his underwear. They both stepped into the shower, waiting for the others, who brought a dozen eggs to throw at them.

As they were being repeatedly attacked, Allura threatened to get her revenge next time, and they all knew she meant it.

 

They wrapped it up rather early that night, but Keith didn’t want to go home yet. It was a Saturday, and he had no work the following day, and he knew that Lance didn’t either.  
“Lance,” he said as he helped them clean in the living room, “do you think you can do a reading for me tonight?”  
Lance turned around to look at him, surprised. “What for?”  
“No reason,” Keith shrugged, “it’s just… It’s been a while, and I kind of miss it. I haven’t been in the Ghost Room in ages.”  
“Sure,” Lance smiled, “would you like me to dress up for you?”  
“No need, I know damn well that you can do my reading in sweatpants.”  
“I can,” Lance said, “but should I?”  
“You look magical enough as you are,” Keith said, pulling Lance closer by his T-shirt and planting a brief kiss on his temple.   
“You always know what to say to shut me up, don’t you?” Lance shook his head, but he seemed cheerful, “fine, put the pillows away and go wait for me in the Ghost Room. I’ll finish clearing the table and I’ll come join you.”

Keith did as he was told and then walked into the Ghost Room for the first time in months. It looked the same, apart from the new lamp Lance had to buy after the incident with Lucy and the new tablecloth, since the previous one caught on fire a few weeks before. He turned on the relaxing harp music, and his eyes were drawn to the spot where he knew he would find the grimoire. He hesitated, since it still felt incredibly personal, but he knew that Lance trusted him with it. He pulled a chair and climbed onto it to reach the familiar book. He took a seat by the table and opened it, curious to see whether Lance had added anything to it. It’s been a while since he saw it, so it was hard for him to differentiate between the new and the old. Still, he recognized a few pages which were certainly blank before and now were filled with Lance’s messy handwriting. He immediately immersed himself in reading and he was startled when Lance eventually walked through the door.

“Whatcha doing there?” Lance asked, curious, coming to sit beside him.  
“Just wanted to see whether you added anything new,” Keith said, “this is beautiful,” he pointed at some sketches of flowers he found in the margins.  
“I wrote a few pages about you,” Lance told him then, his voice soft and shy.  
“You did?”  
“Mm-hmm, look here,” Lance flipped through the pages, “oh, first of all, look at this brief addition to the section about demons.”  
Keith was certainly amused by the illustration Lance provided of Aamon, the words “sly son of a bitch” and “do not trust” were written in red ink beside it. He wrote a brief account of their body-switching adventure there. Then Lance flipped to the end, where he showed Keith a different section he wrote about him. It was about teaching a novice the art of magic.

“That’s nice,” Keith said as he checked the list of important tips, “you might have an apprentice someday. Do witches do that?”  
“Sure,” Lance shrugged, “sometimes. I don’t think I’ll have one, but just in case, you know? We might have young witches in the family who may need some help.”  
They put the grimoire away and performed the tea brewing ceremony, which Keith was well acquainted with by then. This time, Keith’s cup showed them a much more positive picture than the one he had when he first came to Lance for a session.   
They discussed that day – “hey, Pidge did end up finishing their project with success” and “I guess we know what those serpents were about, huh?” – and were glad to see that the reading turned out to be rather accurate. They looked at Lance’s cup as well, and Lance let Keith do the reading for him, to see how much he remembered.   
“I see a swan,” Keith said as he turned the cup in his hands, “so that’s good. This, here, is a moon. Wait, is Moon in tea leaves the same as it is in crystal mist?”  
“Not exactly,” Lance was not the one to answer the question, which made Keith jump in his seat.  
“For fuck’s sake, Coran! You scared the shit out of me,” Keith turned to look at him.  
Coran and Lance both stared at him, surprised. “You can see him?” Lance asked.  
“Yeah,” Keith shrugged, “why wouldn’t I – oh.”  
Keith knew well enough that he wasn’t supposed to see ghosts, since he wasn’t in a witch’s body anymore. Then he remembered – “I saw Lucy, too.”  
“I figured,” Lance said, “but I thought it was possible since you had a connection. You’re not supposed to see Coran, not even if he wants you to.”  
“I think Keith might be a witch,” Coran suggested.

“Huh,” Keith looked up, “how can we know? How does it work, anyway?”  
“Well,” Lance sighed, “witchcraft is a learned skill, for the most part. Nobody’s born with the knowledge that you carefully acquired while residing in my body and studying with me. But… At least for some things, you must be born a witch.”  
“Seeing ghosts is one such example,” Coran added.    
“How did you know that you’re a witch?” he asked Lance. Despite having many conversations on the subject of witchcraft with him, he never thought to ask that.  
“My grandfather’s ghost came to me when I was ten years old, and he told me,” Lance shrugged, “I’ve been fascinated by this world ever since. I think the fact that you can see Coran is enough, to be honest.”  
“Does it mean that I can perform spells on my own? Do my own readings?” Keith couldn’t explain the excitement that rose in his chest.  
“Do you… Do you want to?” Lance seemed just as surprised.  
“I think I do,” Keith admitted, “I think… Ever since we switched back, I felt like something was missing. At first, I thought it was the fact that I had an undeniable crush on you, but… Even now that I've confessed and learned that my feelings are mutual, I still feel it. And this room… I can’t explain it, but I just feel…”  
“Drawn to it?” Lance smiled.  
“Yes,” Keith nodded, “I really missed this. All of it.”  
“Keith,” Lance placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, “you can do this, you know? If you want, you can… You can start your own grimoire. Get yourself some crystals, gather ingredients. I can teach you.”  
Six months ago, Keith might’ve took Lance’s words for mockery. He would’ve never admitted to any of this, not in a million years. Things had changed, however, and he nodded with a soft smile on his face.  
“I’d like that,” he said, “you’re an awesome teacher.”

 

That night, Keith took a little longer in the shower, thinking about the very first time he ever took a shower in this apartment, in a different body and in a completely different state of mind. It seemed almost absurd how much things had change over the course of – what, a few months? It was hard to believe, and sometimes he still had to remind himself that this was real.

When he walked back into the bedroom, his hair still wet and smelling of lavender from Lance’s shampoo, he found Lance standing by the window, uncharacteristically still.   
“Hey,” Keith said quietly as he approached, “is everything all right?”  
Lance jumped a little at the sound of his voice and hurried to wipe a tear away. Keith caught that movement, and his eyebrows furrowed with concern. “What’s wrong?” he asked, his hands immediately reaching to hold Lance’s shoulders for comfort.  
Lance didn’t answer. Instead, he raised his hand to show that he was holding a hair tie. Keith recognized it, it was one of his own.   
“I found this under the pillow,” Lance said, which made Keith very confused.   
“I – well, I must have left it there a few nights ago, when I went to bed with my hair tied back. But why are you upset?”  
“I’m not,” Lance’s lips stretched into a smile, “not in the slightest. On the contrary, I’m… I found this, and I thought about the traces you leave here. You know, like your toothbrush in our bathroom or your sweatpants in my closet, or… Or hair ties under the pillow. The thing is, I know how hard it is for you to express your feelings in words. I know it, and I realize that it’s okay. I don’t need you to say these things, I can just see. You give me your trust through things that aren’t words, and it’s… It makes me happy. Those are happy tears.”

Keith wrapped his arms around Lance’s shoulders and pulled him into a warm embrace. Lance hugged him back, tightly, not afraid to crush Keith’s bones with his affection. “I’m glad that you know,” Keith whispered as they hugged, “but I think I can tell you, too.” He pulled back just enough to be able to see Lance’s face.   
“I love you,” he said, his voice half a whisper, “and I trust you.”  
Another tear fell from Lance’s eye and he smiled, his face radiant with gratitude.   
“I love you too,” he said, his voice slightly unstable, “and I couldn’t be happier. Really, I don’t think it’s physically possible for me to be happier.”  
“Good,” Keith said, “and you better stay that way.” He then gently kissed Lance’s smiling lips, his heart warm with content.   
“I didn’t know you can be so sweet,” Lance told him, his fingers absent-mindedly brushing through Keith’s hair, sending shivers down his spine, “if you told me a few months ago that you’d be standing in my room, confessing your love to me, kissing me sweetly on the lips and telling me to never stop being happy… I’d say ‘who? Keith? No way in hell’. And yet…”  
“Shut up,” Keith smiled, “you get special treatment. You better appreciate it.”  
“Oh, I do,” Lance kissed him rapidly on the cheek, again and again, holding him tight in his arms as if there was any chance that Keith would want to get away, “I appreciate it a lot. Would you like me to show you how much I appreciate it? I have all kinds of creative ways to show you.”  
“Interesting,” Keith said, struggling not to laugh, “yes, I certainly require a detailed demonstration of said appreciation. Please, proceed.”  
Lance let out a small laugh, which made Keith laugh too, but then he pulled him into a heated, eager kiss, and they both forgot what they were talking about.

When Lance fell asleep that night, Keith waited a little before closing his eyes. He watched Lance’s chest rise and fall in a steady pace, letting this rhythm calm his mind. He could not say that everything was perfect. He could not say that the troubles of the past never caught up with him, or that his anxiety was finally at bay. But there were little moments like this, when Lance was right there by his side, when he didn’t feel as lonely anymore, and those moments were worth it.   
Tomorrow would be a new day filled with new stress, he knew. But for now, he could close his eyes, wrap one arm around his sleeping boyfriend, and not feel guilty about loving him anymore. For now, he could be happy, and the rest didn’t matter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote a bonus NSFW scene, but I didn't want to post it here since this fic already has a rating and I don't want to risk anyone reading it by accident. that being said, I posted it on tumblr.  
> be warned, this scene contains explicit description of sexual intercourse:  
> http://littlemissbennet.tumblr.com/post/173868409565

**Author's Note:**

> THANK YOU FOR READING! <3  
> this fic has been a really fun journey for me, and it's mostly thanks to all of your wonderful comments. I appreciate every single one of you for taking the time to read and express your thoughts. you're all awesome and I love you!  
> also, if you want, you can find me on tumblr at littlemissbennet.tumblr.com for stupid memes and shitposts,  
> or at lanceseyelashes.tumblr.com which is my Voltron side blog.


End file.
